


Under My Skin

by Witch_Hazel_Writes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witch_Hazel_Writes/pseuds/Witch_Hazel_Writes
Summary: Working for Shield Security is Bucky's dream job. When he's finally assigned the lead of a security detail, he can't be more excited.Working for corporate executive Brock Rumlow seems like a straightforward job--a place where he can finally make his boss Tony see his value as a leader. Enter Darcy Lewis, Rumlow's  brazen, unladylike, obnoxious girlfriend. She's got a reputation for being impulsive, an attitude the size of Brooklyn, and she's wearing on Bucky's last nerve.Bucky has a lot to prove, particularly to Tony, and when Hydra International Banking, Brock's company, begins receiving threats from the inside, Bucky will have to balance his ambition for success, his annoyance with Darcy, and his growing sense of dread about Rumlow's involvement.





	1. The Proposition

There were too many people in the office. 

That was Bucky's first thought as he strode through the rows of cubicles on his way to the conference room. As he approached, he could see a group of well-dressed men standing shoulder to shoulder around the gigantic wooden table in the glass encased room straining to hear the conversation. Bucky quickly counted nine men, assessing their various sizes, checking for signs of weapons, and making notes of the three possible escape routs from his current location. Old habits, he supposed.

Moving closer to the conference room, Bucky noted a man he didn't know leaning forward in his seat next to the head of the table. His dark hair was slicked back, and Bucky could tell even from a distance that his suit was well tailored and designer. He had broad, muscular shoulders, a well kept short beard, and dark eyes. His expression intensified as he expressively gestured with his hands in an earnest towards Tony. 

Tony, on the other hand, looked positively relaxed. Hell, his feet were crossed and propped up on the table. His expression was a stark contrast to the other man's--he was completely at ease, resting his chin on his right hand, eyes slightly amused, as always. This attitude was nothing new. In fact, Bucky found himself a little jealous of his boss's nonchalance. Tony was completely unflappable, and it always gave him the upper hand in both social situations and business meetings. 

"Excuse me," Bucky grunted none too gently as he shouldered his way past the men in the conference room to stand behind Tony.

"Ah!" Tony exclaimed, "Look who finally decided to grace us with his stoic presence."

Bucky said nothing and waited for Tony to introduce the impressively built man sitting across from him.

"Buckaroo," Tony began as Bucky rolled his eyes, "Meet Brock Rumlow, CEO at Hydra International Banking."

Bucky's eyes widened a fraction. He knew about Brock Rumlow. He was one of the youngest billionaires in New York City. Working for Tony had helped ease some of Bucky's shock at celebrity and wealth, but Rumlow was the real deal: a self-made billionaire with power and prestige usually reserved for those born into wealth. Bucky held out his hand, excited for once to meet his boss's newest client.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rumlow"

"I don't think I've ever seen you shake a perspective client's hand," Tony snickered, turning his attention to Bucky.

"Not everyday I'm impressed," Bucky muttered out of the side of his mouth. 

"Well I"m pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Barnes. Tony here tells me you're the best security guarantee he's ever trained," Brock smiled as he shook Bucky's hand.

"Trained?" Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"I may have embellished a little," Tony said, waving his hand dismissively. "The point is, I think you're ready for the big times."

Bucky met his eyes with curiosity. "The big times?"

"Brock here is in need of some security," Tony explained.

"It seems our internal security has found a few breaches in the system," Rumlow turned his attention to Bucky. "Last week, two of our board members were found dead, and their money had been transferred to offshore accounts. Untraceable." Rumlow glanced at Tony. "As head of the Hydra, you can understand my concerns." 

Bucky racked his brain for any information he had about the organization. Hydra International Banking was one of the most elite organizations in New York. Most of their clientele consisted of international traders. If you were a Japanese, Indonesian, or Russian company looking for a way to bank without the red tape, you went to HIB. Rumlow had built the company from the ground up. He'd started by trading hedge funds for Venture Capital and had quickly risen through the ranks. Seven years into work, Rumlow had left Venture to create his own company, taking all of his impressive clients with him. That was twelve years ago. Now, Rumlow's net worth was probably in the ten to twelve digit zone. 

Bucky glanced at Tony, who was watching Bucky's expression very closely. Bucky knew that look. Tony was appraising his value--deciding if Bucky could handle security for someone like Rumlow, someone with both fame and fortune. Both Tony and Bucky knew that a client like this would mean exposure and marketing for future clients. Not that Tony needed the money. 

A billionaire in his own right, Tony Stark had partnered with Steve Rogers to create Shield Security, a private security company that promised discretion and precision. The only problem was that Steve and Bucky were long time best friends, both ex-military from Brooklyn, and Tony didn't share well. When Steve and Tony came up with the company idea, Steve was excited to invited Bucky to be their third partner. Tony was resistant to the idea. Instead, he offered to hire Barnes to train recruits. Since Tony was bankrolling the venture, Steve had little choice but to accept Tony's terms. Steve did his best to keep the two as separate as possible in order to keep the peace. While Steve's intentions of hiring Bucky were honorable, Bucky's presence seemed to annoy Tony to no end. 

Which could only mean that if Tony was choosing Bucky for this big job, there must have been a catch.

"I figured it was time to see if you're really worth all that money Steve insists we pay you," Tony said carefully, watching Bucky's reaction. 

Bucky ignored the jab. "What does the job entail?"

"Everybody out!" Tony shouted as he waved the men standing out of the room. "Go lurk elsewhere. We have business do do."

As the nine bodies filed out of the room, Rumlow produced a tablet from his briefcase and handed it to Bucky. Bucky blinked twice, focusing on the grizzly scene pictured on the tablet. From what he could tell of the remains, two people were dead, killed brutally and cut open. 

"Not a pretty sight," Tony murmured, looking over Bucky's shoulder. 

"Yeah, they were cut open like an autopsy. You can see why I'm looking for some security."

"What kind of security and surveillance are you looking for?" Bucky asked, placing the tablet on the table and squaring himself with Rumlow.

"You'll be choosing a small team to follow and guard myself and my girlfriend," Rumlow explained as he shifted in his seat. For a brief second, Bucky thought he saw Rumlow's expression shift into a disgusted sneer, but he blinked, and Rumlow looked as handsome and charming as ever. "And I will warn you, she's a handful. She's made three other security companies quit. She either slips through their sight, openly threatens them, or annoys them into leaving. She's impossible, and she's got the most creative vocabulary you've ever heard. She's hot as hell, and clearly I love her, but she needs full-time security. She's also my personal assistant."

Bucky raised both his eyebrows. So Rumlow had bedded his assistant. Bucky's mind conjured a the image of a gold-digging bimbo looking for a meal ticket. He groaned internally. 

"We will need 24/7 security. Until the killer is found, I want someone with her at all times, and I want someone with me commuting to and from work, as well as at home."

"So naturally," Tony grinned, "I thought to myself, 'Who is the most patient, kind, understanding fellow I know?' Obviously the choice was clear."

Rumlow smiled again. "You seem a like the type of guy other guys stay away from."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky tried not to grind his teeth.

"He's saying you're scary as hell, Buck," Tony remarked, taking his legs off the table and leaning forward. "You're a broody, gigantic, metal-armed, force. And also you've seemed bored with training lately, so I figured I'd throw you a bone. Who knows? If this works out, you could end up taking on large clients on a regular basis."

Bucky sighed and glanced at the floor as he weighed his options. On one hand, this woman sounded like everything he hated about high society. She sounded like a kept woman who liked to tell the "help" what to do. On the other hand, Rumlow was a huge customer, the danger was a real threat, and Tony never offered for Bucky to run his own detail before. He could even choose Clint and Natasha as his team. He looked up and met Tony's eyes.

"I'm in. When do we start?"

"This afternoon," Rumlow stood and smoothed out the front of his jacket. "I'll send you the penthouse address. You can meet me at the building, and we'll go over the particulars."

"Lovely!" Tony exclaimed. "I knew you'd be excited to flex your muscles, Barnes. Here's the security file complete with police report from last week's...incident." 

Bucky took the thick folder from Tony's hand and sat down to begin familiarizing himself with its contents while the other men exited. 

"I look forward to it, Rumlow," Bucky said as he began unpacking the folder's contents. 

Rumlow's had was on the door, but he paused and turned to look at Bucky with a grin. "I'm going to remind you you said that after you meet Darcy."


	2. Who the hell is Bucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for your kind words and encouragement! This is my first fic, and I've been a little nervous to post. 
> 
> This chapter was a doozy to write. I needed to Introduce you to Darcy, explain she and Brock's relationship, and put Bucky and Darcy in the same room for the first time. It was a tall order. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Darcy wasn't sure how her life had become this bleak.

She'd awoken around seven o'clock that morning to an empty apartment. She hadn't been shocked, Brock liked to leave first when they had had an argument. In fact, Darcy was relieved not to have to face him. She'd heard the front door slam shut behind him on his way out, and she's slipped out of their guest bedroom, pulled an old oversized sweatshirt over her head, and gone straight to the kitchen to make herself some tea.

As she sat on the counter with her knees tucked underneath her, she'd looped her wild brown curls into a bun on top of her head and folded her arms around herself tightly.

She wouldn't cry.

Brock didn't deserve the satisfaction of her tears. Even still, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the microwave glass and barely suppressed a sob. Three large finger shaped bruised now adorned the sensitive place where her shoulder met her neck. She held her hands over her mouth, fighting to hold down the lump that lodged itself in her throat.

Taking a shaky breath, Darcy tried to think through the shitshow that was the night before.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other on the elevator ride up the their penthouse. Standing a foot away from one another staring at the elevator door, Darcy steeled herself for a fight.

Brock was seething--Darcy could see his anger in the tension in his shoulders and the way he'd set his jaw. She hadn't thought it was a big deal--she'd helped him, for fuck's sake!

They'd had a meeting with a member of the Chinese State Council to consult on funding a military project. This was not really Darcy's forte. She loved science--building innovative new technology to better the world. She loved gadgets and robots and chemical reactions. She'd taken a desk job as a secretary with Hydra three years prior. She'd been desperate, fresh out of college, completely broke, and willing to find something temporary to pay the bills.

Then she met Brock. He was impossibly perfect with his hair and his muscles and his smile. She remembered thinking that it was a shame that someone with an ass like that would sit behind a desk all day. She'd felt intimidated and enraptured. Then he smiled at her on his way into his office, and fuck all if Darcy hadn't goddamn swooned. That afternoon, he called Darcy into his office.

"Ms. Lewis, it's a pleasure," He'd purred as she took her seat across from his mahogany desk. "I've spent the better part of an hour going over your application file, and I'll have to admit, I'm impressed."

The way he'd looked at her made her feel seen. Looking back, she'd liken his gaze to that of a lion leering at its prey. However, at that moment, his intensity and attention had been embarrassingly flattering.

"Um, hi, it's Darcy," She'd managed. "I don't know what to say, which is really saying something, trust me," She remembered how she kept trying to sit up straight, and how his eyes had wandered from her eyes to her ample chest down to her hips and ankles.

"You're exquisite," he'd said. It occurred to her now that he also called his prized paintings and nice meals "exqusite."

"You're gonna get in trouble for sexual harassment, there buddy," she'd grinned back with a chuckle. Her insides has turned to mush. He was hot as fuck, but she be damned if she was going to blush and make the mistake of sleeping with her boss. "I got the job because I'm fucking brilliant, not because my boobs are huge."

If her language or candor had surprised him, he hadn't shown it. "So I see in your file. It says here you were the youngest woman in your program to create a, uh," he glanced down at the file in front of him, "neurobot?"

"That would be correct. I can code circles around frat stars and trust fund brats."

"That's good to hear," Brock stood and walked around his desk to sit on the edge of the desk facing her. "I'm am neither a frat star nor a trust fund brat, and I need a personal assistant.

"A personal assistant? What do I look like, pal? I’m not real interested in fetching your coffee,” Darcy asked, annoyed.

"I'm serious, Darcy," Brock had placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward. "It's a very high paying position. And you'd get to advise me on each and every business deal that comes across my desk."

"Why the hell would you trust me as a business advisor? You’ve read my file. I don’t like business. I like tech," She said as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Well if this interaction is any indication, you're both smart and honest: two qualities sorely lacking in most of my business associates."

She'd been charmed. He'd thought she was smart, and he wanted her opinion. No one, especially not a well know, sexy, powerful business man had ever asked her for her opinion. She gave it anyway, never backing down from a fight and always saying what was on her mind, but this was different. This sounded like respect. This sounded like opportunity. This sounded so damn good.

"If I say yes, what happens next?

"You move offices for a start." He gave her an appraising look.

He'd promoted her to be his personal assistant quickly, and she thought it was because she was smart and capable.

For the first year, working with Brock had been an absolute dream. She'd assisted in mergers with rich and powerful people. She'd made enough money to rent a nicer apartment by herself. She'd bought new clothes without digging threw racks at thrift stores. She’d even adopted a kitten. /p>

But then, the position and her relationship with Brock shifted. He began finding reasons to be alone with her in the office. He’d sent her beautiful gifts—flowers, perfume, expensive lingerie. Then he’d kissed her. No preamble, just pushed her into his office and forced a kiss. At the time, she’d thought it deeply romantic, like he couldn’t help himself. They’d gone to dinner, and she’s become his girlfriend by her second year at the company. They’d moved in together, or rather, she’d moved into his penthouse, and he’d suggested that they begin sharing bank accounts.

“It’s worth it,” he has insisted. “We will get a huge tax break. This way, we can both have access to the money, and you will never have to worry.”

It had all sounded so reasonable.

But Darcy soon realized loving Brock and living with Brock were two very separate things. She’d taken her debit card to the mall to find a new winter coat. When the cashier rang up her order, her card had been declined. Darcy remembered feeling mortified as she dug through her purse to reach Brock.

His name was on the bank account, not hers. He gave her $500 allowance, and when she began cussing him out with wild abandon, he'd lied.

"Babe, both of us have a limit. A lot of banks want to make sure both people on the account have to sign off on big purchases."

"Brock. You literally own the fucking bank," Darcy had exclaimed. "Can't you find some loophole?!"

"D, don't you want our money to be equal? Don't you want to feel like partners?"

As much as it pained her to admit, Darcy had wanted that. For the first time in her life, she wanted to share a life, completely. She'd relented.

After that, other things started becoming restricted, both privately and professionally. She would walk into a meeting with Brock, and he would ask her to fetch a cup of coffee. Of course, he was suave about it at first, but pretty soon, the pattern was clear: Darcy wasn't to be trusted in the business.

Then came the isolation. She'd make plans to see Jane, her best friend, or she'd plan a girl's night with Wanda, and Brock would get...angry. It started with yelling. Then came the throwing things. Then, finally, he'd hit her.

She'd confronted Brock, threatening to leave, but by that point, it was too late.

"What exactly are you going to do, D?" He'd sneered, cornering Darcy as she crouched beside their kitchen counter. "You have no money. You haven't seen your friends in ages."

Darcy'd held her freshly bruised jaw, heart caught in her throat. She had peered up at Brock and wondered how she had ever thought he was charming. He looked like a monster, his features cruel with dark entertainment. He loved feeling this kind of power over her, loved making her feel small. She's backed further, her body betraying her fear of this creature she'd thought she loved.

"Here's what's going to happen, Darcy," He'd continued. "You're going to be the perfect housewife. You're going to drag those tits and that ass to each and every fundraiser. You're going to smile. You're going to convince everyone that I am the world's best boyfriend, and that you are the dedicated, devoted, forever grateful girlfriend."

"If you parading my tits around will convince people you're a big man, you'll--"

Whatever she'd been about to say was cut short as Brock took a handful of Darcy's curly hair and yanked it backwards.

"People will believe you, my dear," he'd whispered through clinched teeth, "because if they don't, you'll regret it. Or they will. I can make people disappear. I can make people suffer. And I will if you don’t do exactly what I want."

Darcy had peered up at him, neck straining against his hold, eyes dark with anger.

"You're a sick son of a bitch," she'd muttered, then sharply inhaled as he pulled a little tighter. “What could you possibly need me for?”

“I need you, D" he'd grinned sadistically. "Because the public needs to believe I’m decent, with a doting girlfriend who worships the ground I walk on. You’re Public Relations, and you will convince people that I deserve their respect."

He’d grabbed her chin and forced her into a brutal kiss before shoving her back towards the ground. 

The high pitched whistle of the tea kettle startled Darcy out of her thoughts. She slid off the counter and took the kettle off the stove, proceeding to pour the hot water into her favorite yellow mug. Closing her eyes, she listened. The apartment was eerie, like an echo chamber. She was thankful for the warmth of the mug, the same small comfort. She couldn't count on much, but tea in the morning was a constant solace.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered to herself, walking back to the guest bedroom. As she curled up with her back against the headboard, Loki, her tiny cream and grey cat with dark paws, climbed into her lap. She bent her head forward and rolled her shoulders trying to loosen the stiff muscles from Brock's rough treatment the night before.

Loki purred lowly as Darcy settled back onto the bed, curling onto her side. She felt so small under these covers in this giant bedroom. She blinked back a tears, holding her breath to extinguish the sob that caught in her throat. She was so damn tired. This wasn't the plan. She wasn't small. She used to fill up a room with wit and humor and blunt honesty. And she still did, sometimes. When Brock wasn't there.

She let her eyes close and let herself fade as sleep overtook her, swallowing her whole.

***

Darcy jolted away as her phone buzzed on the bedside table.

Brock: Get presentable. I'm bringing Shield Security to the penthouse. Take a fucking shower and straighten your hair. It looks better that way.

"Motherfucker," Darcy mumbled, pulling herself out of bed and trudging to the bathroom. "I'll take a shower, but there's no way in hell I'm going to straighten my goddamn hair."

She turned the shower on, closed the door, and let the steam fill the room. She waited until the glass was completely fogged over to undress. Today she'd have to stitch herself together and paint on a happy face later, but right now, she couldn't bring herself to look in the mirror.

***  
They'd looked like watchdogs.

Bucky couldn't help but make the comparison as the elevator ascended. Brock's men watched his every move and hung on his every word. Even their posture was deferential to Brock. They looked like trained hounds.

Bucky also hated enclosed spaces, and he was currently stuck an eight foot by eight foot box with a billionaire and his four goons--three of which were armed underneath their expensive suits.

Bucky rocked forward on his toes and forced his gloved hands further into his leather bomber jacket. He'd opted for street clothes: a flannel shirt, leather boots, and his favorite jeans. His should length brown hair was neatly pulled back in a low bun away from his face, and he'd let his stubble go for the day. On the streets of New York, he blended right in. In Brock Rumlow's hotel, however, he'd never felt more out of place.

"Pierce here will provide you will all of my current security details," Rumlow was saying. "He handles logistics, my meetings with foreign and domestic clients, and my personal finance. He's the guy who will cut your check."

"Pierce, huh?" Bucky's eyes shifted between the men facing him. "I thought your girlfriend was your assistant. Seem like things an assistant would do."

Bucky watched the knowing glance that passed between the two men. It surprised him when Pierce spoke, not Rumlow.

"Ah, Darcy," He chuckled. "She's a little spitfire." One of the men behind Pierce covered a laugh with a cough.

"'Little' isn't the word I'd use, chief," one of the other men quipped.

"No," Pierce conceded with a laugh. "Not with that body. Or that mouth. She's a real draw for a lot of our foreign customers. But I'd say she gets bored with the business. She puts on a good front, but she's better at the administration side of things--appointment books and all that. She gets in a little over her head with this job."

Bucky glances at Rumlow, waiting to see how he would respond, but Pierce continued.

"She’s smart enough, but things run better for everyone when she's not involved."

Pierce hummed in agreement, distractedly typing away on his cell phone. Looking up, he changed the subject.

"I'll take Bucky to the penthouse to show him around. I think I want him with Darcy," Rumlow spoke with command, but Bucky couldn't help feeling like the two men had begun making decisions without consulting him.

"We will meet you in the security office afterwards," Pierce concluded.

"Alright, boss," Pierce mock-saluted as the elevator reached the penthouse.

Bucky exhaled deeply, stepping out of the elevator with Rumlow into an immaculate foyer. The floor was white marble, and there was a crystal chandelier hanging in from the ceiling.

"Follow me," Rumlow smiled as he led Bucky through the hallway into a gigantic open living space. The entire western facing wall was made of windows looking out over the city. To the right sat a kitchen with every modern amenity. There was a wide kitchen island covered in white and glittering sliver marble. The sink was deep and elegant, and to Bucky, the stove looked like something from a science museum. To the right, a sophisticated stark white couch sat book-ended by glass end tables, giant tv, and bar cart sat. The light grey pillows and rug complimented each other, but all the white was a little overwhelming for Bucky.

He thought the apartment looked regal. Expensive. And very cold.

"Home sweet home," Rumlow commented, pouring himself a scotch from the bar cart and sat down on the couch facing Bucky with his back towards what Bucky assumed was a hallway leading to bedrooms. "Want anything to drink? I have everything."

"Not while I'm working sir," Bucky murmured, sitting down on one of the bar stools at the island turning to face Rumlow.

Rumlow's smile widened. "Then I guess what Tony Stark told me is true. Bucky Barnes truly is--"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" a female voice deadpanned from one of the bedrooms.

Ah. Darcy.

Bucky shifted his focus from Rumlow to the hallway entrence, expecting to finally meet the business woman he'd been hearing about. A woman stepped into the room, and Bucky realized that Darcy was nothing like what he'd been expecting.

This woman had a mane of beautiful, wild curls loosely tied into a braid and tossed over her shoulder. She had wide, blue eyes, pale, milky skin, and full rose colored lips. As she entered the room, she took the scotch out of Rumlow's hand, took a sip, and continued walking towards Bucky into the kitchen. Her red crew-neck sweater hugged her figure in all the right ways, accentuating and ample chest and slim waist. She wore a pair of ripped jeans hugged her generous hips that ended in fringe at her ankles. She couldn't have been any taller than 5'2". And she was barefoot.

As she leaned elbows on the far side of the counter facing Bucky, he took her in. She was a riot of color in this clinically white space. Everything about her was loud. Her voice, her choice of clothing, even her hair. She was the kind of bombastic, confident woman that everyone noticed. This wasn't a demure, elegant secretary. This woman was a force of nature that came with her own gravity.

"What's a matter there, soldier," She grinned. "Cat got your tongue?"

Bucky blinked and tried to recover with a response, but Rumlow beat him to it.

"Bucky is your new bodyguard, dear," Rumlow clarified. Bucky glanced at Rumlow, expecting him to elaborate, but was startled by Brock's expression. For just a moment, Rumlow had looked...cold. His eyes had briefly changed to a dark appraisal. His mouth had set into a hard line. He'd set his jaw. It had just been a moment, but it had been enough.

'Huh,' Bucky thought. 'That's not how must men greet the women they love.' He didn't have time to dwell on because Darcy spoke again.

"You can't be serious, Brock. He looks like a retired lumberjack."

"I am dead serious, my dear," Brock poured himself another drink. "You saw the pictures. You know what happened to Holly and Drew last week. I don't care if you hate it, you need protection."

Darcy rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm not a child, I don't need a baby sitter," she turned focus her eyes on Bucky's. "He can't even keep up verbally."

Bucky narrowed his eyes, and objected before he thought better of it. "I tracked terrorists in the wilderness in undisclosed locations. I hunted Russian spies in Bulgaria. I think I can handle a penthouse princess."

Darcy walked around the counter to plant herself in front of Bucky's stool. She spoke to Rumlow, but her eyes stayed on Bucky's and she tilted her chin up, challenging. "If this Brooklyn hipster is going to follow me around, I'm going to do everything I can to make his life miserable."

Bucky stood and straightened his spine, rising to his full height facing Darcy. "Oh doll," he taunted with a smirk. "Then I'll be happy as a clam. According to Tony Stark, misery is my preferred state. And you know what they say. Misery loves company."

They both stood their ground, staring at each other, waiting for the other person to move.

"Well," the both startled at Rumlow's voice. "This is certainly going to be entertaining."

Bucky remembered himself and stepped back, but not before catching Darcy's guarded eyes now staring at her boyfriend.

This woman was nothing like he imagined. He tried to picture her in an office, tried to envision this unabashedly colorful woman behind a desk. He couldn't picture it, but he could imagine how difficult it would be to work with her, particularly in a rigid, rules driven environment.

Bucky sighed.

'Well," he thought. 'This job just became a little more complicated.'


	3. Lock and Key

She could do this.

Darcy took a deep breath as she smudged on a little more eye liner. She'd already smeared foundation and concealer over the edge of the two bruises on the base of her neck near her shoulder that poked their way above her green sweater. She'd left her hair down, covering up the two dark patches, but she was paranoid. Bucky seemed a little too observant. On the list of worst conversations she was never going to have, that one was number one.

Finishing her makeup, she shimmied into a pair of cream dress pants and pulled on a pair of brown wedged booties. She would have preferred combat boots, but, as much as she hated to admit it, the heel on these booties made her ass look great, and for some reason, she wanted Bucky to think she was pretty.

 _No,_ she sighed. _Not pretty. Worthy. Worth all this pomp and circumstance._

She'd been thinking about that in the shower this morning. Brock was willing to strip her of everything--her pride, her freedom, her personal safety--and now he was placing her under lock and key. Sure, he was calling it protection, but she knew better. Bucky was here for two reasons: to make Brock look like the doting, faithful boyfriend, and to run keep Darcy from sticking her nose in places it didn't belong. Brock got to look heroic and kind, and she'd be more jailed than ever before.

She rolled her neck, feeling the sore muscles tense and pull. The ache was grounding. She could do this. Men liked the way she looked. Brock paraded her out for all kinds of occasions to help grease the wheels in difficult social settings an meetings. She glanced in the mirror. Same ass. Same tits. Same lips. Her body had become a bargaining chip and a distraction. It made her feel cheap, but it was also effective. Her body worked on all the men, and even some women, Brock worked with, so why wouldn't it work on this glorified attack dog? He'd be too distracted to notice anything out of the ordinary.

_I can do this._

She opened the guest bedroom door and made her way into the kitchen to meet her see her new babysitter.

***

Bucky was not amused.

Darcy was fifteen minutes late. She apparently had an appointment with a magazine writer at a coffee shop to talk about an article they were running on Rumlow. This was already Bucky's nightmare. A coffee shop in the West Village posed too many variables to count. He'd gone to the shop at eight thirty the previous to see where the exits were and scout its potions in terms of foot traffic. He was trying to be as thorough as possible, trying to convince both Rumlow and Tony that he was ready to run his own operation. He had the whole thing planned down to the wire, memorizing the traffic patterns finding the best seats to gain a vantage of the whole shop.

And Darcy was late.

He checked his watch again as he leaned onto the kitchen counter. He'd opted for an old, worn leather jacket, white t-shirt, dark pants, and black boots. He'd chosen to wear a pair of leather gloves. His hair was hanging loose at his shoulders, and he'd let his beard grow to a well-kept scruff. He knew a bodyguard's job was not to be noticed, so he wanted to feel like himself.

As he glanced down to check his watch again, Darcy appeared in the doorway. He had to admit, the woman was...diverting.

Her green sweater clung to her generous curves. Her face looked like cream or porcelain--like something delicate, touched by a slight peach blush. Her hair was wild, flowing in careless looking curls that reached the center of her back. She'd even opted for heels. She looked just on the right side of put together, as if some stiff wind would unravel her poise and present some kind of warrior Amazon.

"You're late," Bucky grunted, shifting to a standing position. "Part of your safety depends on you sticking to a schedule."

"Good morning to you too," Darcy rolled her eyes. "And wouldn't it be better if I was unpredictable? That way no one will know when to jump out and try to gank me."

"...gank you?" Bucky deadpanned.

"Yeah, you know," she explained, pulling on a tan trench coat and grabbing a very expensive looking computer bag. "Slash me to bits or blow my brains out? Isn't that what everyone is worried about?"

"I would think you'd take your own safety a little more seriously," Bucky sighed, pushing the button for the the elevator. "You saw those pictures. You know what could happen."

"Thanks for the cheery reminder, Grease Lightening."

The door opened, and they stepped inside. Bucky rolled his eyes internally.

_What a piece of work._

_***_

_Well fuck. The attack dog was hot._

Darcy may have been a captive in her own house, but she was also human. Bucky looked dangerous in all the right ways. The leather jacket was made for him, and that white t-shirt was doing nothing to hide his cut body. He looked fierce and intimidating, the way Brock wanted to look but never quite achieved. Darcy suspected it had something to do with ability. Brock was always trying to fit in to a corporate world. He wanted to make them respect him. Bucky didn't have to try to fit. In fact, he stuck out quite a bit, but he looked so commanding and confident in his own skin that what he wore didn't really matter.

She swallowed discreetly. They both stood facing the elevator about a foot apart, not talking. She tried not to think about the times she'd been in this very spot with Brock. She hated this elevator. There was nowhere to run, you were just stuck, waiting for the other person to explode. In Darcy's experience, men were like ticking time bombs. Eventually they showed you their true colors, red and angry and violent. She knew Bucky would be no different. She'd do something or say something, and that would be it. He'd explode too.

She shook the thought out of her head and shifted her weight. That was future-Darcy's problem. For now, she just wanted to appreciate the eye candy and get through the day without screaming at anyone, Bucky included.

***

Silence was always telling.

Bucky like to use it to his benefit. He liked to watch what people did when they couldn't hide behind words.

Darcy was fascinating. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her biting down on her bottom lip. She was holding onto the strap of her bag with both hands, her right pinky gittering, keeping time as she shifted on her weight.

_She's nervous._

His eyes widened a little, glancing over to see just how stiff her shoulders looked and the slight furrow of her brow. _Why was she nervous?_ This was supposed to be a normal day for her. She'd made it plenty clear that she could give a damn about making him comfortable. Technically, he worked for her anyway.

Curious, he shifted his own weight left, leaning a little closer into Darcy's space, and he watched as she unconsciously also leaned left, away from him. 

 _Shit. Tony was right. He_ was _intimidating._  

If this was going to work, she was going to have to trust him. He couldn't do his job if she was keeping things from him, keeping herself guarded. She put on a good show, but some part of her, potentially even a subconscious part, was already keeping her distance from the soldier.

Bucky sighed, rocked back on his heels, and slumped, trying to look less imposing.

"How long do you think this meeting will last?" He asked, trying to break the ice.

Darcy jumped at his voice, but recovered quickly. "It all depends. I'm damage control today."

"Damage control?" The elevator dinged as they reached the lobby. Bucky followed her out, spotting the black armored SUV they'd be using parked with a driver outside on the curb.

"Brock isn't always super smooth in interviews," she conceded, ducking into the back seat as Bucky held the door. "He did this interview after a business deal with a Japanese investor went south. He was angry, and he said some things that we'd rather not have printed."

"Sounds a little out of character," Bucky commented, sliding into the seat next to Darcy.

Darcy smirked. "And that's why I'm in charge of damage control. Keeping his image up is about ninety percent of my job."

"Oh yeah? What's the other ten? Sarcasm? Fetching coffee?" Bucky teased, but halted when he saw her tight smile in return.

"That, and making copies," He noticed the way she deflected. He was used to cynicism and sarcasm--he worked for Tony Stark. But this was a little different. This seemed more stilted than anything else. Before he could say anything in return, she spoke again.

"Alright Jeeves," she shouted up to the driver. "Let's get this show on the road."

***

 This meeting was a fucking joke.

Bucky had followed Darcy into the coffee shop and promptly made his way to coffee bar, finding a seat facing the booth he'd picked out for Darcy. She'd been furious.

"You're going to try to tell me where to sit? What, can't you get a dog to order around?" She'd practically stomped as they walked from their street parking spot to the shop.

"Do you want to stay alive?" he'd shot back, trying to keep a lid on his frustration.

"Not if it means I have to follow orders like pit bull," she'd mumbled. "No, I'm going to sit at the back corner booth because it makes me feel like a mobster."

"You're compromising your safely to feel like the godfather?"

"Yes," she'd hissed.

"Darcy. Rumlow hired me to keep you safe. You're his girlfriend. He want's you safe, and I want to be able to tell him I kept you safe. Can't you fucking get on board with staying alive so I can do my job?"

"Fuck you, bringing him into this," she'd snipped, but there was less venom than before. They walked in silence for a minute or two as Bucky tried to calm his breathing. He looked up the sidewalk, counting the people, looking for anything out of the ordinary. This was a ritual for him--assessing his surroundings. Planning. Finding safety. It helped him center his intention with this frustrating woman who'd just told him to fuck off. He was going to have to be the grown up and say something to smooth things over, but Darcy spoke first.

"Look, I'll sit where you want. You don't have to bring him into this."

That had made Bucky pause. _Bring him into what exactly? Why didn't she want him to talk about Rumlow?_ She interrupted his thoughts again as they arrived at the coffee shop.

"Where do you want me to sit?"

"The third table by the back wall, please," he'd coached.

Darcy had nodded and gone to the seat. Bucky observed her as she ordered a giant hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles. She'd pulled out an old battered novel by Oscar Wilde, curled a foot underneath her, and exhaled. He realized he'd never seen her look relaxed, not until this moment. She twirled a tendril of hair in her fingers. Her face was calm. He was suddenly struck by how young she looked. She couldn't be more than twenty three or twenty four, which was at least ten years younger than Rumlow.

_And about eight years younger than me._

Those thoughts were cut short as Mark Windpol arrived. 

Mark was the type of man Bucky made it a point to never speak to for fear of losing his temper. He looked like a sleazy Wall-street wannabe. He wore a white button down and grey trousers, but the shirt looked disheveled, and the trousers were wrinkled. His shoes and watch both cost a fortune, and his hair was greased back behind his ears. When he had laid eyes on Darcy, he'd immediately gone for a full fledged hug, exclaiming in a British accent, "God I love it when you have to pick up after that boyfriend of yours."

"Hi Mark," Darcy had responded with a smile, trying and failing to get out of the hug. Bucky had promised to remain innocuous, so he'd simply watched the interaction from a stool at the coffee bar facing the two of them.

"That bastard really did it this time," Mark grinned, looking at everything but her face as they found their seats. From here, Bucky could only hear some of the conversation, but he didn't need all the words to know what was happening. 

Mark was leering, looking at Darcy like a conquest or a challenge. He was smug, leaning back in his chair, appraising her, clearly enjoying his upper hand in the conversation.

Darcy looked completely apologetic. She'd made him laugh twice, but her harsh facade had faded, and her features looked demure and remorseful, clearly pleading for Rumlow's case. She shifted her weight in her seat, leaning her face on her right hand resting on her elbow. Bucky wondered how this bulldozing, brazen woman had cultivated the skill to charm men into doing what she wanted. It was manipulation at it's finest. She was giving this man exactly what he wanted--a little lost ingenue that would be forever indebted to him if he would help her out this one time. Bucky had to physically keep himself from rolling his eyes.

Suddenly, Mark leaned forward and her eyes changed. Whatever Mark had just said, Darcy hadn't been impressed. She began to lean back, but Mark just leaned forward, reaching across the table and grabbing Darcy's wrist. She stiffened. Bucky stood, ready to intervene, but Darcy's eyes darted up and met his in warning with a brief look that said, "Fuck off," before looking back at Mark and relaxing her face, schooling it back into a collected, innocent gaze.

Bucky sat back down, growing uncomfortable at Mark's body language. He still held Darcy's wrist in his hand, and now he reached across the table and touched her face with his other hand. Darcy's expression was convincing enough for Mark, but her once natural smile had was now tight and it no longer reached her eyes. She straightened her back and tried pulling away from the man, but he pulled her wrist forward and his other hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her forward to roughly whisper something in her ear.

_Well fuck this._

Bucky stood and  quickly made his way to the table.

"Take your hands off the lady and apologize," he rasped, standing at his full height in front of this asshole of a reporter.

Mark let go of her neck, but kept a firm grip on Darcy's wrist. "Who the hell are you?" He snorted.

"Someone you don't wanna to pick a fight with, pal."

"I'm fine," Bucky's eyes moved to Darcy. She was looking at him with exasperation. "Thank you, _sir,_ but I can handle this."

"Here that, asshole," Mark grinned. "The lady is fine. Go mind your own business."

"I'm only going to say this one more time, bub. Leave. Now," Buck knelt down in front of the man and whispered so only Mark could possibly hear him. "If you don't leave now, I'm going to make a real big scene. I'll cut off that hand you put on the lady, force it down your throat, and pushing you through that window. These are your options."

Mark jerked away from Darcy with a sneer. "When the Rumlow piece hits the newsstands Thursday morning, tell your boyfriend this asshole is the reason."

Bucky moved back as the man stood and picked up his briefcase. "Probably just as well," he looked directly at Darcy. "You're a slut and a tease. I'd have you down on your knees befor--"

Darcy slapped him across the face. "Get out, Mark."

As the man plodded away, Bucky turned to Darcy. She looked furious.

"I told you not to interrupt!" She grabbed her things and stormed out of the coffee shop, leaving the other customers and Bucky staring in her wake. Collecting himself, Bucky strode after her quickly, catching her wrist to turn her around to face him just outside the shop.

"You pompus asshole! Now he's going to run the story!" Bucky was shocked to see an angry tear roll down the side of her cheek. "I had one job to do, and you and your superman antics fucking ruined it!" She ripped her hand from his grasp and stared at him, wild eyed and raging.

"I was trying to keep you safe!" He bellowed back at her. "You were gonna let him touch you. He's an asshole, a slimy, story hungry sleaze. What the hell did you want me to do?"

"Your _fucking_ job!" She shouted back before turning and stomping to the car.

Bucky followed, seething. As Darcy slammed the door, he decided to ride in the front, wanting to give them both a few minutes to calm down before they went back to the penthouse. As the driver pulled away from the curb, he looked into the rear view mirror. Darcy's face was turned away from him, staring out her window, pretending he didn't exist.

_Fine. She want's to be stubborn, I can do stubborn._

As he sat in the seat, he replayed the events in the coffee shop over in his mind, trying to figure out where things went wrong. But that was the problem: the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. What the fuck was she so pissed about? He'd done his job. He'd kept her safe! She was the one who was being unreasonable. I mean, anyone watching that scene would have done the same damn thing he did. She'd told him she would make his life hell, but this seemed completely irrational.

By the time the got back to the penthouse up the elevator, he was fuming. She still hadn't said a damn word. She'd just stood there in the elevator, not even acknowledged his presence. When the elevator door dinged and opened, he decided he'd had enough of the silence.

"You're the most ungrateful person I've ever worked for," he barked as they took a few steps into the apartment.

"Yeah? Well apparently you can't follow a simple request to mind your own damn business!"

"What? Did you want me to let that prick grope you? Do you enjoy manipulating all the men around you? I saw you turn on the charm for him. Bet you like attention, getting to tease men like that." Even as he said it, he knew he didn't mean it, and he knew he didn't want to say it. But it was too late now. He noticed, now that the horrible words were out of his mouth, that she was shaking. It wasn't super visible, but her lip quivered and her hands and shoulders shook.

Anger forgotten, Bucky took a second to take in her appearance again. She was wringing her hands together. Her makeup was smudged all around her eyes which were now a very deep blue from crying. She had curled her shoulders in a little, like she was trying to hold herself together.

_She may sound angry, but she's terrified._

"Darcy, I--" 

"Save it," she bit out. "I think I'm fully protected for the day. You can see yourself out."

Her eyes looked hurt and lost. She looked so pained, like the things he had said had cut her deep, and she was doing everything she could to hold it together.

"Doll, I got angry. I'm sorry," he took another step back. "But I can't leave. I'm supposed to stay with you all day."

"Great." She turned. "Stay here. I'll be in my room till dinner. Enjoy guarding the elevator door."

And with that, she disappeared down the hallway and into a room.

Bucky sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He'd wait here all night if he had to, but he had to make this right.

_So much for winning her trust._

 


	4. Catching Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky might be catching feelings. Steve's a good bro. Natasha's the best. Rumlow's still an abusive dick.

This was getting tedious.

Bucky was weary of the way Darcy now looked at him. Or rather, the way she avoided looking at him at all. He’d been there, right by her side every second for the past five days, and she barely acknowledged his existence. After the huge blow up outside the elevator, she had frozen him out, left him to deal with his failure, and now only spoke to him if she needed something in that moment.

After the argument, he had sat on the couch, waiting for her return from the bedroom for six hours. Sometime around hour four, a little grey and white cat had entered the living room from the hallway. It wound itself around his legs, flicking its tail, begging for attention. He’d finally given in and picked up the little runt so that he could hold it close to his chest. It had snuggled in, lowly purring.

The tiny cat was his only solace. When Darcy had emerged for dinner, he’d tried to deescalate the situation and calm her down.

“Darcy, please, I didn’t mean t—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she had snapped at him, eyes glancing every direction but towards him as she walked straight to the kitchen. “You’re my bodyguard. Fine. Guard my body. You don’t have to like me, and I can go on hating you.”

He’d taken a steadying breath, trying to find a way inside the walls and armor she had clearly spent the last few hours building around herself.

“I do like you,” he’d stood, tying to curl his shoulders forward, make himself a little less bulky and intimidating. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I’m sorry.”

She had her back to him at the stove, but he’d noticed how her movements stuttered at the word, “sorry.” Still, she hadn’t said anything in return, and had continued to pretend that he wasn’t there.

He thought about that now, standing just outside the balcony door, looking in at Darcy as she read a book nestled into the corner of the couch. Darcy’s radio silence the last couple of days had given him time to notice and listen instead of talk.

Now that he had begun noticing her, he couldn’t stop. And now that she was ignoring his existence, Bucky spent every day fighting feelings of loneliness and longing, feelings he was finding frustratingly impossible to deny.

Darcy was radiant. She glowed. She was fire—dangerous and inciting and scorching all at the same time. He gulped, watching her absently raking her fingers through her hair. Her skin looked like the smoothest porcelain. He followed her fingers as they twirled a strand of hair carelessly. He was embarrassed by how badly he wanted to touch it, to see how soft it was. He allowed himself to imagine her closing her eyes, relaxing into his touch, parting her lips and—

He jumped out of his daydream as his phone buzzed in his pocket. Tearing his eyes away from Darcy, he answered.

“What?”

“And good morning to you too, Buck,” came Steve’s amused voice on the other end. “Am I interrupting a staring-at-Darcy session?”

“I don’t know know what you’re talking about,” he grunted out. “She’s just a client, and so his her boyfriend.

“Right,” Bucky could hear Steve’s grin and the sarcasm in his voice, “because your reports always this thorough in your…descriptions of your clients’ girlfriends.”

“Did you call for a reason, pal?” Bucky muttered, sipping his coffee.

“I’m a little worried about you, Buck,” Steve’s tone shifted. “I mean, I know you’re good at your job. You’re always dedicated. You’re always the very best at what you do, but this feels different.”

Bucky turned to look out over the city from the balcony. He’d known this was coming. Steve was a worrier, he couldn’t help it. He’d worried over Bucky for years, first in the military, then in recovery, and now, Steve couldn’t seem to kick his own obsessive habit of worrying over Bucky’s mental health.

Bucky sighed into the phone.

“I’m just wondering how your managing the OCD and the anxiety,” Steve continued quickly. “Because right now, the way you’re reporting, it feels like some old tendencies are rearing their heads. You’re my best friend. You know I wouldn’t say anything if I wasn’t concerned.”

Bucky said nothing for a few seconds, letting the weight of Steve’s words sink in. He’d always appreciated how direct Steve was with conflict. He considered his behavior the past few days. He’d slept a little each night, which was a positive. He’d eaten. He’d kept his routine. Those were all beneficial, healthy patterns. But, he’d also been on high alert. Since he couldn’t get any information or communication out of Darcy directly, he’d started documenting her every move in his reports to Tony and Steve each night. The reports were meticulous. And long. The kept him busy, kept him from dwelling on the rising feelings he was avoiding.

“You know, punk,” he finally spoke into the phone, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the one with the anxiety. You still worrying about me?”

“Old habits and all that, Buck,” Steve exhaled. “Seriously, this isn’t too much strain, right?”

“No Steve,” Bucky said with mild exasperation. “It’s not too much. She just won’t fucking talk anymore, and I’m going crazy. I don’t sit still particularly well. I’ve watched her go to meetings and make nice with clients. I’ve watched her cook. I’ve watched her clean. I’ve watched her read books. I’m climbing the walls, feeling like I hurt her feelings, and she won’t even respond when I ask her a question.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a crush,” Steve laughed, the seriousness replaced with amusement.

“I’m just trying to do my job,” Bucky groaned into the phone. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want to do my fucking job.”

“Well, why don’t you take a break? Let Nat take on bodyguard duty for a night. Spend some time with Rumlow. Analyze some of the data Clint’s gathered in the last few days.”

For the first time in a few days, Bucky smiled. “Yeah,” he breathed. “A day away may help. That’s a good idea. Guess you were bound to have one of those eventually.”

Steve laughed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll call Nat and tell her to meet you at the penthouse. She’ll watch over Darcy while you detox a little.”

“Ha ha,” Bucky rolled his eyes even though Steve couldn’t see him. “Sounds good. I’ll come check in with you after lunch. Better yet, I’ll meet you at that Italian place on the corner by the office for dinner.”

“Perfect,” Steve responded. “See you there at six.”

Hanging up, Bucky bowed his head and felt some of the stress slip from his shoulders. He looked up, reflexively checking on Darcy, and inhaled sharply. Darcy was staring right at him. She looked away quickly, but it was too late.

He’d caught her staring.

_Maybe she’s not as immune to me as she wants to be._

***

Bucky looked stressed.

She was trying not to care, but as Darcy watched out of the corner of her eye as he made his way back inside from the balcony, she couldn’t help but notice the way exhaustion had wrapped itself around him like a blanket. Over the past few days, she’d shut him out as much as possible. She thought back to the day in the elevator. He had been furious. His anger had radiated off his body in waves, and standing next his gigantic, powerful frame in that tiny space had been terrifying.

What would she do if he stepped into her space? She was 120 pounds of lady muscle. He was at least 200 pounds of capable male. He could kill her. And then he’d yelled. She squinted her eyes shut, remembering the disgusted look on his face and the way he’d seemed to grow to ten feet tall in front of her. She’d felt so small in that moment, so insignificant. He’d seen her prostitute herself for Rumlow’s reputation, and he’d been sickened and enraged.

She’d started shaking, and she hated herself for it. She hated how easy it would be for him to hurt her and make her do what he wanted. She’d seen that kind of explosive anger before, and she knew it was the kind of anger that broke everything around it.

“I’m leaving,” Darcy’s eyes snapped open to see him standing there, staring at the floor. “I’m going to do some paperwork for your case tonight. I haven’t spent time analyzing the data my team has gathered so far.”

Darcy nodded noncommittally. “Is that all you need?”

“I’m not leaving you unprotected,” he titled his head up and met her eyes, and his expression surprised her. He was pleading for her to understand. “Natasha Romanov is coming to watch you while I’m away. I’ll be back first thing in the morning—by five thirty or so.”

Darcy nodded again before returning her gaze to her book. She didn’t want Bucky to see her face. She felt battered. She’d been handed off from one supervisor to another, and Brock was slowly restricting her freedom further. There was no one safe to turn to—Brock had made sure of that. And now, Bucky was handing her off again to another stranger.

_I wonder if anyone would notice if I disappeared entirely?_

***

Natasha was right at home in this penthouse space.

Darcy couldn’t help but like the red-haired firecracker. When Natasha had entered the penthouse, Darcy had instantly been drawn to her. She was gorgeous. Her large eyes and figure were the kind that made men swoon, and her sharp wit and non judgmental personality had been a breath of fresh air. They’d quickly decided that it was a good day to go shopping.

“So, what’s it like to be New York royalty?” Natasha asked as they walked into the department store together.

Darcy huffed, “Not as glamorous as everyone wants it to be.”

They stepped inside and rode the escalator to the women’s section.

“Um, you have your boyfriend’s visa to spend on an expensive dress for a party, a wait staff, and all access to every fancy restaurant in town,” Nat grinned, making her way to a rack of tiny black dresses. “It can’t be all that bad.”

Darcy forced a smile. “Brock does like it when I look pretty at functions.” She found a deep blue, floor length, backless cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. “What do you think of this one?”

Nat smiled back, “Are you trying to give that boyfriend of yours a heart attack?”

“Absolutely,” Darcy confirmed with a grin. Natasha noticed that didn’t reach her eyes. She’d also noticed Darcy’s avoidance at speaking about anything remotely related to she and Brock’s relationship, at least in real terms.

“Seriously,” she asked. “Is he as wonderful as all the papers make him out to be? According to them, he’s a regular George Clooney.”

“He’s great,” was all Darcy offered as they made there way back to the dressing rooms. Darcy had found three options: the blue dress, an ivey green strapless shift dress, and a little black dress with a low neckline that looked like it would fit close to Darcy’s figure. Natasha waited outside the dressing room as Darcy tried the blue dress on first.

“What business plans do you have today?” Nat asked from outside, changing the subject to something less invasive.

“Well, an interview Brock gave two weeks ago comes out today,” her voice was muffled from the other side of the door. “Brock and I will probably look over that tonight. I also need to run by the office and pick up some paperwork for our new Indonesian client.”

“Great, we can stop by the office next,” Nat replied as Darcy stepped out in the dress. “Oh you look hot as hell in that.”

Darcy spun around, looking at herself in the three way mirror.

“You don’t think it’s too tight? I want to make an impression, but but I’d rather not have my tits out all evening.” The dress hugged all of her curves. Her chest looked perfect, and it was snug around her ass, making her look like a forties pinup girl.

“If by ‘too tight,’ you mean, ‘absolutely perfect and sexy,’ then yes,” Natasha smiled in return.

“Okay thanks. I don’t think I’ll even try the others on. Fucking hate getting into these things. I’ll just get for this one.”

She returned to the dressing room. “Do you think we can pick up lunch on the way back, I didn't eat breakfast, and—ah!” A thumping sound came from inside the dressing room.

“Having trouble?” Nat asked with a laugh.

“The zipper is a little bitch,” Darcy snarked.

“Hang on a second, I’ll come help you out.” Before Darcy could protest, Nat opened the dressing room door and her jaw dropped.

“I can explain,” Darcy muttered, moving quickly to shield her side and lower back from Natasha’s gaze.

“So can I,” Nat’s gaze traveled from the dark purple and yellow bruises to Darcy’s eyes. “He hits you,” she stated clearly.

“No,” Darcy’s eyes sharpened and her voice was hard. “I fell in the kitchen the other day. Took quite a spill into the island. I’m fine now.”

“Bucky was with you every second of the week,” Nat cocked her head to the side. “You telling me that in his stupidly detailed reports, he just forgot to include you hurting yourself?”

“I’m not hurt!” Darcy barked. “Just drop it.” She turned her head, looking pleadingly into Natasha’s eyes. “For my sake, just drop it.”

Nat swallowed and considered for a few second.

“Get dressed,” she said finally. “We’ve still got a few errands to run.”

***

**Nat** : WE NEED TO TALK  
  
Bucky read the text again.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked from across the table. This Italian restaurant was Bucky’s favorite. He and Steve had been eating here for years. It was his favorite spot to take a break and relax. When they were here, both Bucky and Steve tended tried to let go of work and try to be regular friends.

“It’s Nat,” Bucky replied. “She texted me about an hour ago and said we need to talk. I was neck deep in data, and I forgot to reply.” He glanced up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Speaking of, did you know Rumlow and his right hand man, Pierce, have a room for surveillance in the hotel that no one else has access to?”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No, I didn’t. That seems a little odd, particularly with all this high alert crap going on in his company. Did you go in today?”

“I tried,” Bucky shrugged. “He had a guy at the door saying I needed a code to get in. Clint was the one who told me about he room. He and Rumlow got into it the other day over it. Clint was trying to figure out best ways to enter and exit the premises and recored best places to hide out. Rumlow refused him access. Said he’d have to go through me to get clearance.”

“Did you follow up with Rumlow?”

“I just heard about it today, but I will tomorrow,” Bucky took a bite of his lasagna.

“Be sure that you do,” Steve said, but then seemed to realize how boss-like he sounded and changed the subject. “So, why does this Darcy girl have you in such a state?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky took a sip of his wine and met Steve’s eyes with purpose. He was not going to be intimidated into admitting feeling something less than professional for Darcy.

“Sure,” Steve leaned closer. “Except that I finally saw the case file today.” His grin turned smug. “You have been watching her like a hawk. The picture of her Tony provided helped me understand a little. She’s a bombshell.”

“She’s a pest,” Bucky insisted, rolling his head backward on the booth to look at the ceiling. “She’s untimely. She’s rude. She’s fucking messy. And don’t even get me started on the language she uses. She could make all the guys we went to war with blush.”  
“You sound like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground,” Steve’s smirk widened.

“Oh stop with that shit-eating grin, it’s obnoxious,” Bucky laughed and flagged down the waiter. “She has a boyfriend, Steve. A very rich, very handsome, very powerful boyfriend. I can’t let my mind think anything different. I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Steve’s smile faded a little. “I know, Buck,” he sighed, “but man, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you happy with a dame. It doesn’t have to be her. But it could be someone, right?”

Bucky met his eyes. Steve looked so sincerely hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky tried to smile. “Maybe someone. Look, I need to call Nat back. I know you worry about me, but I promise, Steve, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Steve seemed to accept his answer, “Keep me posted. Peggy is dying to go on double dates with you and some sweet lady.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Bucky confirmed. The both threw some money down on the table, thanked their waitress, and left.

***

“What do you mean you think Rumlow is hitting her?” Bucky’s whole body was tense. He stood stock still next to his black motorcycle, listening as carefully as possible to the words Natasha was saying into the phone.

“She’s got some pretty bad bruising. It’s severe. Says she fell in the kitchen.” He could hear Nat’s barely contained rage behind her clipped sentences.

“How did you see the bruises?” he tried to continue listening carefully, but his mind had begun to run ahead of him. It flashed back to the way she’d let Mark what’s his name touch her in the coffee shop. The way Rumlow had looked at her with such unbridled distaste when he’d met Darcy. The way she’d shook with fear when he was angry. He thought back to the carefully constructed front she’d used around him afterwards. He’d lost her trust because she thought he was going to hit her. All the pieces had been in place, and he was too infatuated with her to notice.

“You were her fucking bodyguard for a week, Barnes!” Natasha’s patience had finally worn out. “How the hell didn’t you notice? She may have a mouth on her, but her body language is painfully timid.”

“I don’t know!” His disbelief and shock was quickly shifting to fury. “I was trying to keep my distance after the argument! I should have paid more attention!” His metal arm whirled as he clenched and unclenched his fist. This was a nightmare.

“Yeah, well now what the fuck are we supposed to do? We still have a contract with this fucker.”

“I know,” Bucky started thinking through logistics. “What did she say? Did you confront her?”

“Am I new?! Of course I confronted her!” Nat took a deep breath. “She denied everything. Bucky, he’s got her so scared. If we do this—if we get her out of this, we have to be careful. Usually I’d say we could grab her and go, but there are layers to this. I’m wondering if Rumlow is behind those murders. I’m wondering if he’s been keeping us busy with Darcy to put on a front with the public. Throwing people off his own sent.”

Bucky hated to admit that she was right. “So what do you suggest? Keep letting him beat the shit out of her?” He could hear the misplaced accusation in his voice, but he didn’t care.

“Barnes, breath,” apparently Nat heard it too. “We let her know that we are on her side. You’re her bodyguard. Become her bodyguard. Let her know she can trust you. Use your ‘in’ to investigate Rumlow. Hell, she may want to help. And find reasons to stick around later so that fucker can’t hit her.”

It made sense, logically. Bucky could understand why Nat suggested it, and his strategic brain agreed with her. But thinking about Darcy, remembering the way she’s shook, the fear on her face, how she let a random reporter touch her, his blood was boiling. He'd just spent an hour convincing Steve that he was okay, and now he was incredibly far from okay. 

“I have to protect her, Nat,” he almost whispered, surprised at his own vulnerability. “She’s…I…she’s important to me. I have to keep her safe.”

Realizing what he’d just said out loud, Bucky flushed, prepared to follow that admission with something professional, but Natasha’s response surprised him.

“I know, Buck,” she replied softly. “I know. You’re not super affectionate, but the reports are so detailed and so complex, I knew she was…important. But this job is also important. What better way to keep her safe than to stay with her, befriend her, and watch over her?”

He thought for a few seconds, still trying to get a handle on the rage coursing in his system.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let me talk to Steve and Tony and explain. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby at nine thirty tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

“And Nat?”

“Yeah, Barnes?”

“Don’t let anything happen to her while I’m gone.”

****  
Darcy jumped as the elevator dinged. He was home.

She sat on the floor crosslegged behind the coffee table with the article about him spread on the coffee table surface. The article was scathing. It painted Brock as an arrogant prick with an agenda to suck people dry for money.

_Incredibly accurate, if you ask me._

She tensed, waiting for him to round the corner into the living room. Natasha was gone. She was downstairs in some kind of meeting. Brock had made sure the elevator was done working for the night. She knew that. She knew he would.

He rounded the corner, staking forward slowly with a look of contained mania on his face.

“So you’ve seen it,” she said sounding much more confident than she felt. “It was bound to happen eventually. Someone seeing past all your bullshit. I don’t know how it hadn't happened yet—“

He gripped her around the neck, forcing her onto her back.

“I called the fucking magazine,” her seethed, his face an inch from hers as he gripped her throat harder. “Seems your little meeting to smooth things over didn’t go so well.” He moved his had to the hair at the back of her skull. “You fucking slapped him.”

Darcy choked out a breath as he released her throat, gasping at the pain in her scalp, “He wanted me to sleep with him to change it!” She spat the words in his face. “You’re reputation isn't worth shit, let alone my—“

“My reputation is the reason you exist!” He stood, yanking Darcy to her feet by her hair, half pulling her towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“If he wants to fuck you, you let him fuck you,” He grinned at her sadistically, grabbing her arm and throwing her inside his bedroom. “Your job is to keep them happy. You’ve fucking done it before,” he stalked forward, slapping her hard across the face. She fell to the bed, and he stood over her. “What made this time any different?”

“Your new fucking watchdog didn’t like the way Mark spoke to me,” she ground out, holding her now throbbing cheek in her hand. Her body was shaking, but she be damned before she let him see how he affected her. “He stepped in, and I had to do something.”

“Something?!”

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. His anger was palpable now. Darcy knew what he was going to do, and she knew how much worse it would be if she fought back. He’d used her before. He’d raped her before. She knew if she didn’t let him have his way, he’d hurt her more. She’d been to the hospital four times this year already.

There was no one to call. No one cared. She felt a sob rising in her throat.

“You’re trying to ruin me!” He slapped her again, and she felt blood pool in her mouth from the split lip. “I guess it’s time I really teach you some manners.”

He unbuckled his belt, and dropped it next to her. He loomed over her again, this time grabbing her breasts through her shirt.

“Get off me,” she pushed hard, fighting to loosen his grip on her chest, but he sank his fingers into the cloth of her shirt and yanked, ripping her shirt down the center, exposing her to him.

“I own you, bitch,” He grabbed his belt, raised it, and brought it down on her exposed breasts and stomach.

Darcy bit back a scream. All pretense of courage gone, she shrieked, “Stop it! Brock please! I’m sorry!”

He hit her agin, the mean edge of the buckle purpling her skin quickly. He grabbed her thighs and slotted himself between them as he yanked them apart roughly.

“Oh D,” he teased darkly. “We are only just getting started.”

***

Tony and Steve talked to the police,” Nat explained, repeating the plan back to Bucky. “They want us to remain undercover. Find a way to get inside the inner workings of Rumlow’s business and investigate. After you gain Darcy’s trust, that won’t be hard. a good plan,” Nat confirmed, watching the way Barnes shifted back and forth. He was wound tight, ready to explode any second. “Exhale Barnes. She’s going to be okay.”

“You’re starting to sound like Steve,” he snapped. “She’s not safe till he’s in prison. Or dead.”

“You absolutely can’t kill him yet.”

“Yet,” Bucky confirmed as his phone buzzed. Natasha watched as his faced paled staring at his phone.

“What is it?”

“It’s Rumlow,” He looked up at her with horror. “He told me to come by early tomorrow morning. He’s home.”

 

 


	5. Broken Thinks and Timid Hands

James Buchanan Barnes was no longer here.

The thoughtful, witty security agent was no more. In his place, The Winter Soldier, Bucky’s wartime assassin persona, had come to life. The Winter Solder was cold and calculated. He killed with no emotion, ruthless.  
  
He and Natasha were outside the elevator door, knowing there was no way upstairs without Rumlow knowing they didn’t trust him, ruining the police’s plan. Nat looked up at Bucky from where she sat on the floor against the wall, knees to her chest. He’d been pacing back and forth from the lobby to the elevator doors for hours.

Natasha had only seen him like this one other time when Steve went missing after a mission ten years prior. Bucky’s whole body now hummed with deadly energy. His movement were precise. His back was so straight, it looked like a ramrod had been strapped to his spine. His dark blue eyes faded to a colder, emotionless black. His jaw rhythmically clinched as he ground his back teeth, and there was the constant whirling of the gears and mechanisms in his metal arm.

Bucky was always intimidating, Natasha knew, but right now, like this, he was deadly.

“Give me a status report on your emotions, there Barnes,” she forced out, trying staring a conversation. He looked her dead in the eye with such venom, Natasha felt herself lean back towards the wall. He turned around and continued his circuit back to the lobby.

“Barnes,” she tried again, stronger this time. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t…”He stopped pacing with his back to her. His shoulders rose and fell as he took three deep breaths. “She’s getting hurt up there.” He turned his head to the left and looked over his shoulder, making eye contact again. This time, that rage was colored with something Natasha rarely saw in her warrior of a best friend: fear.

“He could be hurting her. And I’m…we’re supposed to protect her.”

“I know,” Natasha rose to her feet and stepped forward to stand in front of Bucky. He dropped his chin and stared at the ground.

“Hey,” Nat grabbed his flesh shoulder with her hand, shaking him. “Pull it the fuck together, Barnes.”

He looked up at her with newly stoked fury.

“I mean it,” she continued, like the look in his eyes wasn’t chilling her down to the bone. “We have a job to do. This part fucking sucks. But in…” she checked her watch, “three hours and twenty-one minutes, you have to go play your part. You also have to build a relationship with Darcy.” She looked him dead in the eye, trying to make this as clear as possible.

“Barnes, if you go up there like this, not only will you kill our lead into this larger murder investigation, but you’ll terrify Darcy.” He inhaled sharply through his nose at that realization.

“She’s already a little scared of you, James,” she knew using his real name was a little bit of a manipulative low blow, but she had to pull him back from the edge before he did something stupid and blew their cover. “You don’t want to push her further away.”

Bucky took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, loosening his stance. She watched as a little life, a glimmer of kindness returned to his eyes.

“And if he’s hurt her when I get up there? If she’s bleeding out on the floor?” His tone was getting more frantic. He pulled back, using his hands to gesture wildly. “If she’s dying, and we’re sitting down here with our thumbs up our asses while—“

“Then you kill him.”

She watched his reaction. He met her eyes again, and his body stilled.

“Isn’t that against code?”

“Yes. But if he kills her, and you let him walk out of this building alive, I’ll strangle him myself.”

She took his hand and led him back to the wall where she’d been sitting. They sank down next to each other, backs agains the wall, side by side.

After a few tense minutes had ticked by, Bucky turned to look Natasha in the eye. She noticed that he’d mostly returned to his normal self with the exception of the darkness in his eyes.

“I don’t want her to be afraid of me,” he said softly. “I’m so tired of people being afraid of me. But I’ve never wanted ta kill somebody as badly as I do right now.”

“I know,” she leaned her head against his shoulder. She did know. He was her best friend. Steve might claim the title, but Steve was always trying to fix Bucky. He couldn’t help it. And Nat? She just wanted Bucky to be the man she knew he was—broken and kind and fierce and confident. He’d saved her before. He hadn’t judged her. He’d pulled her out of the depths of a savage depression. He’d been there for every mistake she’d made, every rule she broke, and he’d never left. He’d even introduced her to her wife, Wanda. His violence didn’t scare her. In fact, it was one of the things about him she understood clearly about him. Sitting here with him now, she just wanted to show him the same nonjudgmental support he’d always shown her.

“Just keep breathing, Barnes. We’ll wait it out together.”

***

The elevator was moving too slowly.

Steve had brought Bucky a change of clothes about thirty minutes ago. Bucky could tell from the way Steve had held onto his shoulder and the sympathetic look in his eyes that he was worried. Bucky also knew that this time, he had a reason to be worried.

The elevator climbed up the last two floors, and Bucky took a deep breath, preparing himself. He’d been working on a mask to hide his hatred since he’d talked to Nat. He would be cordial. He would be kind. He wouldn't break Rumlow’s jaw.

The elevator dinged as it reached the penthouse. Steadying himself with a deep breath, Bucky stepped out as the doors opened into the clinically white space.  
“Bucky?” He heard Rumlow’s voice quietly from the kitchen. He clinched his fists and walked down forward with measured movements. “You’re right on time. Thanks for coming early. I have a meeting with a publicist this morning, and I didn’t want to leave D unprotected.”

Bucky had to consciously school his face to look pleasant as he rounded the corner. Rumlow was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Bucky wasn’t surprised to see that the businessman was completely ready for work. He had on an immaculate three piece suit complete with an expensive leather banded watch and his hair parted and slicked back.

Bucky looked around the room, searching for signs of struggle, trying to document anything out of place. The room looked as cold and empty as ever, and Darcy was nowhere to be seen.

“Is Darcy awake yet?” Bucky asked, trying to sound casual as he took a seat on a barstool at the island, facing Rumlow.

“Have you met my girlfriend?” Rumlow quirked a lip up in a grin, and Bucky’s insides rolled at the words, ‘my girlfriend.’ “Darcy won’t be up for a few hours I bet. Particularly after last night.” His smile turned slimy as he leaned forward, leering suggestively at Bucky.

Bucky gulped down disgust, realizing that Rumlow was waiting for a response.

“Big night?” he managed.

“D’s always been a wild one,” his tone dropped suggestively. “But last night, she was downright dirty. Gotta tell you man,” he took a swig of his coffee. “I love it when she gets all slutty. Likes it real rough.” He straightened up, smirk still plastered to his face. “So she may be a little…fragile this morning. She gets that way after sex.”

Bucky could feel the angry flush rising on his neck.

“Then shouldn’t you probably be here when she gets up to look aftah her?” He tried to temper the anger in his voice as he continued. “Seems like she’d need some comfort.” He hoped that sounded innocent enough.

“Oh, no,” Rumlow laughed, reaching around the island to grab his briefcase. “Took her back to the guest room after I was finished last night so that I wouldn’t wake her up when I left early this morning. Keeps her a little insecure to wake up alone.I like keeping her a little needy.”

Bucky felt bile in is throat. He thought about what Rumlow was saying. Darcy would wake up alone and scared. Rumlow wanted that. He wanted her weak.

He tried not let his mind picture what the night before might have looked like, but he couldn’t slam the door on the mental pictures. Darcy, screaming out for help. Darcy, bloodied and bruised. Darcy, with Rumlow’s hands on her body, around her neck, holding her down, forcing her—

“I should tell you,” Rumlow’s voice mercifully interrupted the brutal images in Bucky’s mind. “I’m going to be gone to Los Angeles for the next two days. A client is coming stateside, and I have to be there.” He pulled a packed piece of luggage behind him from behind the island and turned to make his way down the hallway to the elevator. He paused for a second, turning to face Bucky with a serious expression. “I trust Darcy will be safe with you. And I trust,” he paused, cocking his head to one side, “that you’re a man of your word.”

Bucky could see the challenge, the warning in the other man’s eyes. He must have seen the disgust at the edges of Bucky’s carefully crafted facade. Bucky smiled, forcing it to reach his eyes.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, sir,” he added for good measure, trying to placate Rumlow and stroke his ego. “I’ll make sure she’s missing you while your gone.” He hated himself for the suggestive look on his face to reassure Rumlow.

“Perfect.”

Satisfied, Rumlow turned to the waiting elevator and left the apartment.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky muttered angrily, as the doors closed.

***

It was eight thirty before there was any movement from Darcy’s room.

As soon as Rumlow had left, Buck had snuck back to the guest room door. He didn’t need much, didn’t want to wake her or startle her, but he had to make sure she was fucking breathing. He notice two things when he’d nudged the door open a sliver and looked inside.

First, Darcy was breathing. She was fully covered by a pale yellow duvet cover, but her breath was even. Her face was obscured by her hair, but thank god, she was breathing.

Next, he’d noticed the room itself. Unlike the stark white interior of the rest of the apartment, this room was full of life. The wall facing him had hundreds of pictures—photos, quotes, drawings—tacked up in a radically colorful splash. The light in the room was golden, lit by a quaint little lamp next to the bed. There were books skattered all over the bed. The runt of a cat that followed her from room to room was curled up on the pillow next to her head. This room looked like Darcy. It was the only corner of the penthouse that reminded him of her at all, and he felt something tighten in his chest when he realized she was probably only herself here, in this space.

Closing the door quietly, he went to wait on the couch. He’d been sitting there since then, contemplating ways to connect with the girl two rooms away. Thinking about how lonely she would feel this morning made him feel sick. He hadn’t had a real relationship in years, but he’d had his share of one night stands, and he couldn’t imagine leaving someone to feel so vulnerable after you share intimacy together. He didn’t need to be somebody’s boyfriend to know that people needed things sometimes. If a woman wanted him as a partner, even for a night, then it was his job to meed their needs as best he could, both physical and emotional. Some people needed a little more holding than others.

Thinking about Darcy, waking up frightened and disoriented, having to pull herself together alone, having no one to lean on, his heart tightened again. He knew so much about her already. She was a pistol, a firecracker who took no shit. She was kind, pouring him a cup of coffee every morning even as she ignored him. She wanted the world to believe that she was impenetrable. But he’d seen the way she folded herself into the corner of the couch, wrapping herself in the softest blanket she could find. He’d watched her coddle the cat, finding comfort wherever she could. He wondered briefly how long it had been since anyone had just held her.

The sound of a door opening shook him from his thoughts.

Darcy entered the room, and his heart stopped. She was wearing a long fluffy white robe tied tightly and securely around her waist. Her hair was braided loosely and pulled over her shoulder. He could see a purple mark on her neck. It looked like she’d just washed her face. It was clean of makeup, but there was no mistaking the dark bruise on her cheekbone and the red rimes around her blue eyes. She crept forward towards the kitchen, and Bucky realized she hadn’t seen him yet. He didn’t want to scare her, and he felt his heart rate quicken as he tried to figure out the best way to make his presence known.

She took a mug down from the cabinet and took ahold of the tea kettle, filing it and placing it on the burner. Bucky saw how sluggish and careful her movements were. He wondered how much pain she was in. He stepped forward, and her eyes snapped to his face, gasping as she saw him for the first time.

“I—“ She cried out, dropping the coffee mug. It shattered on the kitchen floor, and for a second, neither one of them moved.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky broke the silence, stepping forward. Darcy didn’t say a word, and ducked down to begin picking up the broken pieced of the mug. Bucky rushed forward quickly, noticing her bare feet on the cold tile now littered with jagged ceramic pieces.

“No, let me,” he knelt beside her, tying to catch her eye. His eyes moved to the broken bits, and he watched her hands shake uncontroablly. She seemed to notice this, and tried moved them quickly, trying to grab a large piece of the mug.

“Easy,” he murmured, but it was too late. The piece cut her palm. She pulled her hand away quickly, a startled sob gargling up from her throat. “Easy, Darcy. It’s okay, I’ll clean it up.”

He took her hand in his as gently as he could, and finally, she looked up at him. Her eyes looked terrified, a tear leaking its way down her cheek, and Bucky felt something in his heart break a little.

“Hey, hey,” he smiled, and brought her hand to his chest. “It’s okay, doll. Come on, let’s get you out of here and onto the couch.”

Without pausing to let his nerves get the best of him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and an arm under her knees.

“Wait!” She jumped, wiggling in his arm. “I—You don’t have to do that, I can manage.” The words sounded mechanical. He’d do anything to get her to yell at him right now, just to see that fire in her eyes.

“Doll, I got ya.”

He held her as close as he dared and carried her quickly to deposit her on the couch. Once seated, she stared up at him in wonder. Without a word, he grabbed a cream blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over her lap. Then, he got to his knees in front of her and gently took her cut hand. ‘

“Doesn’t look life threatening,” he tried smirking, looking up to meet her eyes. “Exhale, doll. I’ll get that cleaned up and bring you your tea and a bandaid.”

He stood, trying not to worry about the fact that she hadn’t spoken in a few minutes. He also ignored the way his chest swelled when she’d leaned into him as he carried her. She’d been so warm. Stark relief had risen in his chest when he’d know she was safe and in his arms. He decided not to inspect that feeling too closely as he swept the kitchen floor and checked for any stray ceramic shards.

He returned to the couch five minutes later with a cup of tea for Darcy and a mug of coffee for himself. Handing it to her along with a bandaid, he elected to sit on the opposite corner of the couch, turing his body to face her. He left lots of space between the two of them, trying not to hover.

“How do you know how I take my tea?” She asked quietly, staring at the mug cupped in her hands.

“Kind of my job to watch you,” he said lightly. “You make it the same way every morning. Doesn’t take a brain surgeon, Darce.”

She lifted her gaze to level him with her eyes. They didn’t look fearful or stunned anymore.

“Brock doesn’t know how I take my tea,” She said it like it was a surprise.

Bucky said nothing for at least two minutes, trying to let the realization sink in, trying to give her a minute to breath before what he assumed would be a very hard conversation.

“He may not be paying attention very well,” Bucky replied finally, eyes locked on hers, searching. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night.” He let out a deep breath, trying to expel the lingering guilt there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” her face became hard, closing up in distrust. “Brock and I had a lovely evening.”

“He tell you to say that?” Bucky asked, feeling his anger rising a little. “Because from where I sit, it looks like ya woke up alone after a hard night expecting to lick your wounds by yourself.”

“I don’t remember asking you what I look like,” she snarked back with a little heat.

“Darcy, come on!” he growled. “Why are you defending him?” He slammed his mug on the coffee table and then instantly regretted it. Her eyes widened and her shoulders curled in. Reflexive self-protection. He took a breath. “I’m sorry. I promise I’m not angry at you. I’m not gonna hurt you, Darcy.”

She looked shocked by his candor.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she insisted, trying to look annoyed and confident, even as the cup in her hands shook in her grasp. “Of course you won’t. Brock would kill you. You don’t scare me, asshole.”

Internally bemoaning his communication skills, Bucky made a quick decision and stood up, only to come to kneel in front of her again. He carefully, slowly reached his flesh hand forward, giving her ample time to back away. Instead, she got very still, watching his hand closely, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Easy,” he gentled as she jumped a little when his hand gently touched her chin to turn her face towards him. He didn’t meet her eyes, instead looking directly at the dark bruise on her cheekbone.

“This looks like it hurts,” he said quietly. Darcy’s eyes filled with tears, and he carefully brushed the stray drops away with the hand that had been resting on her chin. “Shhh doll, that’s alright. It’s alright now.”

“No it’s fucking not!” she shouted, pushing his hand away, angry tears now freely flowing down her face. “It’s so many things, but ‘alright’ is not one of them!”

He dropped his hands, watching her, waiting to see what she’d say next.

“You don’t understand,” she gritted her teeth, now looking back at her tea cup. “He’ll kill me. He’s tried before. Pierce stopped him.” She breathed out, as if that admission cost her everything.

“And now you’re here, under his orders, watching it happen,” she turned her gaze to his. “How long have you known?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Since last night. I didn’t know until last night, I swear to you Darcy.” He heard the steel in his own voice. “You have to know that I wouldn’t have taken the job, wouldn’t have wanted to help him if I’d known.”

“And now that you do?” she asked carefully. “What happens now? Up until twenty minutes ago, I thought you were like Pierce or one of his other guard dogs. Thought you were here to do his bidding.”

Bucky’s head shot up, gaze piercing hers. Of course she’d thought he’d let Brock hurt her. All of Rumlow’s other men knew and did nothing. Still, knowing that she thought so little of him hurt.

“What changed your mind?”

She smiled a little. “You know how I take my tea.”

He ignored the way her smile thawed something inside him. This was going to be okay. She was starting to believe him. She clearly didn’t trust him, but some part of his heart settled knowing that she didn't believe he was going to hurt her.

“Are you hurt?” he gulped, trying again to force images of her last night from his mind. “You’re moving pretty ginger this morning.”  
“Um,” she started. “I…It’s been worse.”

His heart sank.

“What do you need?” he decided to change the subject, pushing away the rising emotions and focusing on the familiar pattern of logistics and plans.

“A shower for starters. Then maybe a quick trip to the hotel clinic.” She looked away, avoiding his eyes, trying to preserve a little dignity.

“Okay,” he started to stand, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at her, waiting.

“Bucky,” she began carefully, brow furrowed. “What happens now?” She asked again.

“Now,” he smiled a little up at her. “I need your help.”


	6. Secret Spots and Coffee Shops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Bucky find a little common ground.

Darcy didn’t know what to think.

She was laying back on the exam table in the hotel clinic, waiting for the doctor to explain the extent of her injuries. This was nothing new. Darcy had been in this same position at least six times this year, waiting for a doctor to give her some pain meds and telling her to take it easy for the next few days.

Only this time, she was struggling to wrap her bewildered mind around the fact that there was a rather large, devastatingly handsome soldier waiting for her in the hallway. Even now, Darcy could see Bucky’s shoulder through the clinic door window waiting.

Darcy had been surprised by how gentle the man could be. He had waited with his hands in his lap in the living room while she showered, letting her take as much time as she needed. When she’d appeared in the hallway, clean and wearing her coziest blue sweatshirt and softest jeans, he had risen, taken her arm, and guided her to the elevator. He’d placed a large, gloved hand on her back, letting her lean into his support as she swayed a little in discomfort.

Darcy noticed how careful he’d been about it. She’d watched him, this large, imposing soldier with fierce strength consciously use restraint when holding on to her. She’d felt something in her chest break loose when he’d leaned in to steady her as the elevator jolted sideways. He’d politely avoided talking about her current state, and instead began asking Darcy questions about Brock’s daily routine.

And now he stood there like a lighthouse outside the door, waiting to guide her to safety. The thought furthered the loosing in her chest. He was still there. He was on her side.

Maybe he was safe.

“The damage to your ribs is substantial,” the doctor interrupted her thoughts. The stoic woman stepped around hanging curtain to look Darcy square in the eye.

“You’re lucky none of them are broken. The contusions and abrasions across your chest will heal with time, but I’m prescribing some healing cream to put on at night to speed up the process. There is also some vaginal tearing as well as petty serious scratching and bruises on your inner thighs and around your hips.” She paused to raise an eyebrow.

“And you say you tripped down some stairs and don’t want to complete a rape kit?”

Darcy shifted her gaze to look back out the clinic window, only to see that Bucky had walked to the other side of the hallway and was now watching her. She quickly looked down at the ground. She couldn't imagine what this capable, skilled man thought of her. She felt a spike of shame in her chest.

_He’s got to think I’m pathetic now._

“That’s right. Just clumsy me, falling down the stairs again,” Darcy mumbled, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Alright then,” the doctor sounded exhausted. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll let your…boyfriend?” she asked, peering out the window.

“Bodyguard,” Darcy corrected.

“Bodyguard,” the doctor corrected, “know your diagnosis with your permission.”

“Yeah, okay. Uh, thanks.”

She carefully got off the table and went to retrieve her clothes as the doctor opened the door.

***

“She seems to be in a lot of pain,” Bucky interjected as the doctor explained.

“Yes, but she’s going to be okay,” the doctor continued after going over Darcy’s injuries as generally as she could. “But keep an eye on her physical activity. As the body heals, it uses energy. She’s going to be weaker and more lethargic.”

“Do I need to take her to a pharmacy to get a prescription filled?” He thought back to her stiff movements in the elevator and walking to the clinic. She had looked fragile which was a word he would have never associated with the brassy brunette who took no shit and gave no fucks. He was going to make sure he’d never see her look like that ever again.

“I gave her something for the pain and some topical cream to heal more quickly, but she asked not to be prescribed anything.”

“What? Why?” He hoped he sounded a normal amount of concerned. He was doing everything he could to be supportive while remaining professional. Seeing Darcy hurt had made his heart stutter and stumble in ways he wasn’t comfortable with. He knew he had to remain emotionally distant, be a bodyguard, keep her safe…stop thinking about what it would feel like to wake up next to her, warm and soft under his fingers.

“She said she needed to remain clear headed,” the doctor’s eye bored into his. “Which tells me that see feels unsafe in some parts of her life. So I ask you, ‘bodyguard-not-boyfriend’: How the hell did this woman end up battered and beat up with a bodyguard following her around?”

Bucky straightened to his full height. He hated that Darcy still didn't trust him enough to take pain medicine and let him take the reins so that she could heal without worry.

“We weren’t there,” he managed to say it without shouting, containing his anger with a tight grimace. He counted it as a win considering the fact that he wanted to scream.

“I see,” the doctor sighed. “In the future, can I suggest that you be there whenever this happens? Otherwise I don’t see why the woman needs a bodyguard. This is the seventh time I’ve seen Mrs. Lewis this year.”

That took the wind out of Bucky’s lungs. He inhaled, then answered.

“You won’t be seeing her in here anymore. I guarantee it,” There was steal in his eyes as he stared back at the woman.

“Good,” she turned to go back inside the clinic, but she paused and looked back at Bucky. “She’s been through enough.”

He leaned his shoulders back against the wall, exhaling looking up at the ceiling. Bucky’s mind was reeling as he waited for Darcy. He wanted to talk through the logistics of the investigation with her. He wanted to plan for what they’d do when Brock got back from his business trip. He wanted to set his mind to work, to keep it moving.

Anything but settle on the way Darcy made him feel. Anything but think about her bruised ribs or how Brock had forced her. Raped her. Anything but thinking about the fifteen ways he could have killed Brock in the kitchen that morning.

We can go get coffee and discuss the plan. She can give me her insight. Just another part of the job. Normal.

“Hey, ready to get out of here?” He straightened up, hearing her voice.

“Yeah, thought you may want to grab a cup of coffee,” he answered.

“Great, cause after the giant-ass painkiller that doctor lady force-fed me, I’m going to need some caffeine,” Darcy acknowledged.

Bucky smirked. That sounded more like the Darcy he’d gotten to know. She looked more relaxed, and he hoped it wasn’t just the pain medicine taking the edge off.

“We need to talk logistics,” he pivoted. “Which we should probably do outside of this building.”

“Lead the way, bodyguard man,” she waved a hand down the hall way, ready to follow him to the garage.

***  
“So you want me to spy?” She smirked a little, feeling the effects of the painkillers in her system as she teased Bucky.

“If ‘spy’ is what you want to call it,” Bucky looked a less stressed, hunched over a mug of black coffee. They were tucked away in the corner of a coffee shop Darcy only went to alone. She never took business meetings here. She never met clients here. Hell, she’d never even taken Brock here before.

But this was her place—a place she could hide out after a rough night. This place always felt safe. The walls were painted a light gold. The place was lit with warm Edison bulbs and the natural light from the large storefront window. The waitresses were two college aged girls who never intruded, but who were always kind. The barista was a old Italian man who knew her order by heart and reminded her of one of the best foster dad she had ever had. Everything about this place was inviting.

She wasn’t sure when or why she’d decided that it was okay for Bucky to come with her here, but now, sitting across from him, she was thankful he was here.

“If calling it ‘spying’ makes you more inclined to do it, than yes,” Bucky smirked back, large gloved hands wrapped securely around the mug in front of him. Darcy had noticed his metal arm the second day he’d followed her around. She’d opted for pretending it wasn’t a big deal. If he wanted to talk to her about it, he would.

“Brock is a master at hiding things,” Darcy sighed, sinking back in her chair. “He doesn’t spend a lot of time explaining things to me anymore, but I probably have access to some places you don’t.”

“Like what?”

“Like the private security room in the hotel,” she replied. She was trying hard not to notice how deep and blue Bucky’s eyes got when he was concentrating. “I also have access to most of the offices at the bank.”

“Why would he give you so much access?” Bucky cocked his head as he looked at her intently, but she broke eye contact with him to stare at her hot chocolate.

“I mean,” she shrugged, uncomfortable. “I am his girlfriend. And up until now, it’s not like I had anyone else in my corner. He didn’t need to protect things from me. What was I going to do if I found something…suspect?”

“Makes sense,” Bucky exhaled. “The plan is pretty simple: I have to make him trust me enough that he won't suspect anything. He’ll think I’m one of his…what’d ya call them?”

“His guard dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

“The thing is,” He looked uneasy for the first time in the conversation. “That means I have to play along.”

“So I gathered,” Darcy smiled a little, but it was sarcastic, and it didn’t reach her eyes. She paused, took a deep breath, and then smiled for real. “At least now I’ll know that playing the part of a jackass is just your job.”

“Come on, doll,” He smiled back, thankful for the levity. “ You and I both know that I’m just responding to you. I follow your lead when it comes to attitude.”

Darcy grinned further, liking the way he kept up with banter. She took a second to really look at his face and found herself memorizing the way his lip quirked and the gleam of amusement in his narrowed eyes. His hands were so big and calloused and strong. She liked knowing that he could use them to hurt, but he chose to be gentle and kind and soft with her. He was the picture of restraint. It wasn’t just his body or his smile or his strength. Darcy liked Bucky.

She gulped with the realization.

_He is so fucking gorgeous._

Now that she knew being around him was relatively safe, she realized his beautiful smile and playful banter might be a problem. Bucky was here on a job. He was getting paid to protect her. He treated anyone he worked for like this.

She took another sip of her hot chocolate. She was allowed to look, but she needed to shut down those thoughts before she slipped any further.

“Well we might as well make the most out of Brock being out of town.”

“What’d ya have in mind?”

“Let’s go to the office. I want to practice my spy skills,” She smirked. “Did I tell you that I have access to our financial records?”

***

Turns out, Darcy was alarmingly natural at being a spy.

“I can’t believe they just let us in his office,” Bucky remarked, glancing up from Rumlow’s desktop to see Darcy spinning gently in the computer chair.

“Would you tell your boss’ girlfriend that she couldn’t go in Stark’s office?”

“Pepper would kill me. She doesn’t exactly need Tony’s permission to do anything.”

“See?” She smiled at the ceiling, continuing her lazy circles in the chair. “I’m fucking terrifying and everyone in his place knows it.”

“You certainly are,” Bucky mumbled noncommittally as he plugged a thumb drive into the computer. He quickly copied the company and Rumlow’s financial records, scheduled meetings, and client list onto the drive. “It’ll be finished in a minute.”

He looked around the office. The place was a reflection of the white apartment. It was sparse. A gigantic grey and blue modern art painting hung above the glass desk. The floors were white marble. There was a metal bar cart, a futuristic lamp, and a grey rug.

_And not one picture of your girl. Asshole._

“You feeling alright?” He noticed a grimace on Darcy’s face.

“I’m in a little pain, but we should go get into the security room a the hotel before we go back to the penthouse,” She straightened, trying to push through whatever discomfort she was feeling.

“No,” Bucky stood, closing out of the programs on the computer and taking the thumb drive. “He’s going to be gone for another day and night. We’ll go tomorrow.” He leveled her with a piercing look, wanting her to understand that she mattered more than just getting information for the police. “It’s my job to keep you safe, even if that means making you slow the fuck down.”

“What are you gonna do?” She tried to toss her hair dramatically, but with the pain, she stopped mid-toss with a wince.

“For starters?” He opened the office door for her. “Make you eat something other than caffeine and chocolate.”

“Hey! Those are two of my four food groups! If you take those away, all I’ll have left is candy and pastries!”

“Christ, doll,” He laughed, following her out. He noticed her slight limp had become more pronounced. Her hair was thrown over her shoulder, and he could see a dark red and purple mark on the back of her neck.

_Fucking bastard._

He steadied a hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her forward, trying to ignore his anger and pasting on what he hoped was a convincing smile as they exited the office floor.

“Yeah, you need to eat.”

“What’d you have in mind?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“How do you feel about Italian food?”

***

By about four o’clock, Bucky found himself sitting on the couch in the penthouse dividing up food from his favorite restaurant with Darcy.

“This is me an’ Steve’s favorite,” he explained, cutting the lasagna in half and serving it to her in a bowl. “When I’m an old man on my death bed, this lasagna is what I’m gonna ask for.”

“Holy fuck,” Darcy muttered, savoring a large bite, eyes rolling back in her head. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You win. Food is good.” She took another bite, and he laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Told ya,” he smirked, digging in himself.

“So who is Steve?” she asked, voice a little more timid like she wasn’t sure he’d tell her.

“Steve’s my oldest friend,” he looked at her. “And my boss.”

“I thought Stark was your boss?” she questioned, mouth full.

“Yeah, he and Steve. They own Shield. I train the security guys.”

“How do you know Steve?” she paused, carefully tucking her knees up underneath her, leaning back against the pillows, and turning to face him.

“We were in war together,” he sighed. “He’s always been there.”

He paused, wondering how much to tell her. He didn’t want to scare her, but she’d seen his arm, and she’d never asked for an explanation which confused Bucky. Everyone asked. Or prodded. Or avoided. Darcy seemed to just roll with it. Or maybe she was afraid to ask about it. He sighed, deciding he’d tell her.

“I was captured in Russia for a while,” he watched her eyes carefully, trying to tell what she was thinking. But she just looked back at him, waiting. “I was taken and…uh, experimented on some.”

He heard her inhale sharply.

“Did they do that?” She looked pointedly at his arm for the first time.

“Yes and no,” he leaned back, weighing his words carefully. “They cut my arm off after I damaged it in a mission for them. Then they messed with my mind. Had me pretty fucked up. I couldn’t remember who I was when I was rescued. When Steve found came for me.”

Darcy didn’t look afraid. She also didn’t look at him with pity. He eyebrows furrowed for a second, then widened in understanding.

“So Steve’s seen the worst of you.” It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a judgement, but it was a jarring statement. She’d said it with recognition.

“What do you mean?”

“One of my foster mom’s used to say that there are only a few people in the world willing to see the worst of you and stay. Willing to be in the hard stuff. Stick around to remind you who you are when you don’t remember.” She leaned her cheek onto the couch cushion. “Steve’s seen the worst of you. And he stayed.”

Bucky had never had it explained so clearly before, and her understanding was unnervingly attractive.

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Exactly.” He paused to regard her thoroughly. “You ever have any of that?”

“I thought I did with Brock,” her smile turned a little sad. “But it turned out just wishing for something doesn’t make it true.”

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that, so he waited. But Darcy let the silence stretch to awkward before jolting a little, realizing how intense the conversation had gotten.

“Anyway, I think I need some advil. I’m feeling a little uncomfortable.”

Judging by the way she was holding her body awkwardly against the cushions, she was more than a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah, let me grab you some,” he stood, glad to put a little distance between the two of them. The intimacy of the conversation scared him, made him feel a little claustrophobic. “You should rest for a while. I’ll wake you up with more advil in 6 hours.”

He looked back at her from his new place in the the kitchen.

“Sure you don’t want me to call the doc? They’ll give you something stronger.”

“I’m sure,” her eyes were focused on the floor, and her shoulders crept up towards her ears like she was trying to hide. “I don’t like feeling out of control.”

“Okay.”

Bucky turned to pour her some water, wondering what he was going to do. He took a breath and tried to focus, but his thoughts returned to the brunette on the couch. Darcy was everything. She was fire and kindness. He had to get a grip on his emotions.

_She’s just a job. This is a job. She didn’t want him as anything but her protection._

Sighing, he turned to look at her, breath catching. The sun had started to set, and the yellow light coming through the window had wrapped itself around Darcy, who was staring out the window, looking like a fucking masterpiece. She was all golden, glittering like something holy and warm and real.

His eyes moved down to her mouth. She was biting her bottom lip, deep in thought. His eyes moved from her full lips to her smooth neck, down the collar of her sweater, to the swell of her breasts. He fought to bring his eyes back up to her face, finding her eyes now looking at him watching him cautiously. He blinked. She was so beautiful, it actually hurt to look at her.

He walked forward with the medicine and the water, trying not to notice the way her eyebrow quirked up at him a little. He knelt in front of her, offering up the advil, a little afraid of what he’d say if he spoke.

“Thanks, Buck,” she said softly, taking the medicine and swallowing it, maintaining eye contact.

“Sure thing, doll.”

Yeah, this wasn’t good. Looking at those giant blue eyes made him fucking weak. He stood abruptly and began cleaning up their food.

“Rest some, Darcy,” he said without looking at her. “I’ll wake you up in a while.”

He heard a soft “kay” as he turned back to the kitchen.

Yeah. He was a fucking goner, and this was going to be complicated.


	7. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy struggles with nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter is a little shorter. I'm a teacher, and this is our last week of school, so I've been a little busy. I promise, I'll make up for it next week! Hope you enjoy!

_Everything hurt._

_Darcy tried to open her eyes, but the darkness was closing in around her. An icy darkness, covering her over._

_She could feel fingers pressing her down into the void behind her, nails scraping into her skin, cutting into her sides._

_She could hear Brock’s voice sharp in her ears, “You’re fucking lucky you’re hot, D. Take it. You’re made for this.”_

_His hands and voice were everywhere, pulling and pushing and biting into her flesh. She could feel his body on top of her, his legs pinning her down. Even in the freezing blackness, she knew it was him, and she knew what he was going to do to her._

_She screamed, desperate to get away, desperate to find some escape, thrashing around, trying to get out and—_

“Darcy! Darcy, calm down!” a familiar voice bellowed next to her. She opened her eyes, beating at the arms around her, fully expecting to see Brock’s monstrous face attacking her out of the darkness.

“No! Please! Just let me go!” she yelled out, confused. Her wide eyes locked on blue, deep eyes. “I—oh, what..” She tried to take a deep breath, but her throat was closing, refusing to cooperate.

“Easy, doll,” the voice had gentled. “Come on, love, give me a deep breath. Come on.”

Bucky. Bucky was here, in front of her. And now he was moving, sliding behind her, enveloping her in his warmth.

Her brain finally made the connection, feeling his strong chest at her back and his voice in her left ear. His arms were wrapped around her torso, holding her close with his knees on either side of her body. He was cradling her, keeping her so close to his chest.

“Buck—I can’t—“ she still couldn’t make her lungs work right. “I c—“

“Hey, hey,” his voice was soft in her ear, “It’s alright, darlin’. Breath with me, come on,” his arms tightened around her. She felt small and safe and protected, completely tucked into him.

“Inhale with me, I’ll count for you. There you go—one, two, three, four, good. Now exhale for me.”

“I’m so—sor—sorry, I—“ she struggled to talk.

“Nah, doll,” he murmured in her ear. “We got plenty of time to talk. Breathe. That’s it, love. Focus on what you can feel. That’s it. Can you feel my arms around you?”

Darcy nodded jerkily.

“That’s good, doll, doin’ real good. Feel the couch underneath you?”

She nodded again, trying to focus on the softness underneath her, feeling her chest loosen a little. She took a deep breath and held it before exhaling with a few shaky hiccups. Reaching her fingers up to her face from underneath Bucky’s embrace, she was surprised to feel wetness.

“Just breath, Darce. Don’t worry about anything. I got you. Just let yourself breath,” he moved his hand up and carefully moved her hair out of her face and over her shoulder. “That’s real good, Darce. There you go.”

For a solid four minutes, Darcy tried to breath, tried to relax. Slowly, her throat cleared, and she was able to exhale. Bucky continued to talk her down, his voice gentle and steady behind her ear. He kept his arms around her, a metal hand stroking through her hair. Finally, Darcy spoke.

“I don’t have the right words to say I’m sorry for this,” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, making eye contact with him. “Fucking mortified.”

Bucky looked pensive, hand still moving in her hair. The sun had gone down, and the apartment was now grey in shadows, dark and cold. Darcy was suddenly very aware of the way Bucky’s body was pressed against her her body. He was so sturdy and warm and gentle. He was touching her in way she hand’t been touched in ages. There was no agenda. He want anything from her. He wasn’t forceful. He was patient. He touched her with care and kindness and and it was so overwhelming that she began to cry.

“Hey, hey, that’s alright, love,” he soothed, waiting patiently. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for. Nothin’ to apologize for.” He pulled back away from her a little so he could really look her in the eyes.

“I’m a war vet, Darce. I’ve had my share of night terrors. Nothin’ to be ashamed of, I promise.”

He reached forward carefully, waiting to see if she’d back away. She wondered if he was hesitant because he was worried about her reaction to his touch or if she was afraid of his metal hand. When she didn’t move, he held her cheek in his hand, using his thumb to wipe a tear away.

“That’s it, love. You’re doin’ real good,” he smiled. “Want some tea? Or hot chocolate?” His eyes narrowed, assessing the stiffness in her body. “Maybe some pain medicine?”

“No, no not that,” she answered a little too quickly. She exhaled, trying to slow herself down.

“I couldn’t bare feeling out of control right now.”

“No, yeah,” Bucky looked bashful. “I meant Advil. Just something to take the edge off, love.”

“Oh,” she looked down at her hands, noticing the slight tremor still present. “Yeah. That’d be great. Then maybe I’ll move to bed.”

“Good call. Sit tight, I’ll grab you some water and some Advil.”

He stood, moving towards the kitchen, and all she could think about was how lonely she felt when he walked away.

***

Bucky ducked behind the cabinet and took a deep breath. His heart wouldn’t stop beating a hundred miles a minute. Holding Darcy like that, seeing her giant blue eyes lock on his, seeing her go from terrified to embarrassed had twisted something inside his chest.

She’d been screaming. He’d been on the porch, talking to Natasha about the files he’d collected and sent back to the office. Nat had been pouring over the numbers for hours, finding numerous red flags that she wanted to investigate. Then Darcy had started screaming.

He’d dropped the phone and run in as quickly as he could, blood frozen in his veins thinking Darcy was in trouble. When he saw her tossing and turning on couch, he’d jumped into action, trying to wake her up from whatever torment her mind was concocting.

Her eyes had been so wild when she finally woke up. All he could think to do was hold her. It was like an instinct, something reactive that he had very little control over. He inwardly groaned, thinking about how unprofessional he’d just been. But she’d been in a panic. He had to help.

He breathed in deeply, filling a glass with water, trying not tho think about how soft and smooth and warm Darcy had felt in his arms. He’d held her as close as he dared, trying not to think about he way she had leaned into his touch, accepting his comfort. Bucky found himself wondering again when was the last time she’d been held. She’d looked at him with wonder and trust, and his heart had stopped beating entirely.

_I’m her bodyguard. Nothing more._

He closed, his eyes, took one last deep breath, and steeled himself to face her again.

“Her you go, Darce,” he mumbled, handing her the water and three capsules of pain medication. “Let’s get you to bed now.”

“Yeah, all this crying and screaming is making me tired,” she forced laugh, stiffly started to move from the couch and stand. “Lead the way, soldier.”

Following orders, he sauntered back to the guest room and turned, holding the door open for her.

“Thanks,” she sighed, limping to the bed. “I’m going to change, but I was wondering…”

She paused, eyes focused on her nervous hands in her lap. He waited for her to speak, but she stayed quiet.

“Whatchya need, doll?” he tried to prompt gently. She tilted her face up to him, eyes questioning.

“Will you stay the night?”

“Oh, uh,” he ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to say. “Darcy, I don't think—“

“Just, like, on the couch,” she hurried. “Not in here, but I just don’t….” She paused, searching for words.

He inhaled and stepped forward, crouching next to her knees. He gently placed a hand on her knee.

“I’ll take the couch,” he looked up with as much fervor as he could muster. “I’ll be right outside. All night.”

She broke into a grin, and he felt his heart swell.

“Okay,” her hesitant eyes turned amused. “Don’t get any ideas, buddy. Tomorrow morning, this damsel in distress bullshit will be over, and I’ll be a pain in the ass again.”

He stood and grinned back.

“I look forward to it,” he turned to the door, “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

As he closed the door, he just barely heard a quiet, “Thank you” from the bed.

He leaned his back against the door and tilted his head back, sagging in relief.

_She’s okay. I’m okay. This is normal. Get your shit together, Barnes._

Straightening, he trudged back to the couch, shaking his head to rid himself of any other emotions that were creeping into his heart.

 


	8. Assholes and Bitches

“I’ll be out in just a second!” came Darcy’s voice from inside her room.

Bucky was pacing. They were late for a lunch meeting with Natasha and Clint to discuss what was on Rumlow’s office computer and what to look for in the security room.

“Okay,” he mumbled, looking in the fridge for some cream. He hoped they’d just pretend that last night hadn’t happened. He thought back to the way Darcy had looked him and sighed. He couldn’t let his heart get involved anymore than it already was. He had to start setting boundaries with Darcy. He had too—

“Can you zip this up for me? I’m too stiff to reach the zipper,” Darcy was now standing in front of him wearing a black, professional looking dress. “I just can't get it.” She turned, revealing miles of pale, warm skin to Bucky.

He gulped.

“Uh, sure,” he quickly pulled himself together and took the three steps he needed. Darcy reached back and pulled her brown curled over her shoulder. Bucky inhaled, seeing not only the expanse of her lovely back, but also seeing how bruised and broken her body must have been underneath her clothing. He stared, shocked to see the extent of the damage.

Even thought the assault had happened two days ago, Darcy’s back was littered with black and red and purple marks. Bucky clenched his jaw, noticing the pattern of the stripes on her back, like she’d been beaten with a belt. He could also see bruises in the shape of fingers. In a few places near her lower back, the skin had torn and broken and was now scabbed over. He couldn’t help the way his heartbeat and blood pressure skyrocketed. The rage he’d felt towards Rumlow came rushing back, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Oh,” Darcy took a step forward and turned back around, struggling to make eye contact. “I’m sorry, I forgot what it must look like. I’ll just change into something simpler.”

Bucky was horrified to see the a flush of shame and embarrassment on her cheeks as she grasped at the dress, trying to hold it together, stumbling over her feet, retreating to the guest room.

“No, Darcy it’s not—“ he tried, but she cut him off.

“It’s okay, Barnes, I’ll just be a minute.”

She hurriedly shut the door, and Bucky thought he could hear tears on the other side.

He slammed the refrigerator door closed. He’d hurt her feelings somehow, just by standing there. She’d even reverted back to calling him Barnes. He braced himself with both hands on the kitchen counter and hung his head. He never wanted to hurt her.

Bucky was shitty at any and all relationships. Nat and Steve both had to reach in and pull him out of his own head and back into the real world.

Before going off to war, Bucky had been the life of the party. He’d been smooth, flirting with girls, dancing, laughing, making the people around him comfortable. Since coming home, everything social had become hard. Situations with large groups of people made him nervous. He was always mapping out the terrain, finding the safest exit rout. His once easy-going manor had all but disappeared. He was painfully stiff whenever emotional situations required him to say the right thing or express himself at the right time.

The PTSD had taken away care free manor, but it hadn’t taken his kindness. It had sharpened his personality down to the bone, and all his swagger had turned fierce. It had left his honor and his loyalty and his compassion, but it had cut away all of his social ease. Steve and Nat were always patient, waiting for him, letting him take his time to find the right words.

His communication failures didn’t normally get in the way at work. Working security was normally cut and dry—logistics. Loyalty, honor, and compassion translated into orders and schedules and facts. Yet here he was, standing in the kitchen like an idiot after making the most dynamic dame he’d ever met cry.

Groaning, he stood and walked to the guest room door. He knocked.

“Darcy?”

No answer.

He tried again.

“Darcy? I need to apologize.”

The door opened, and Darcy stood there. Her eyes were red like she’d been crying, but she must have fixed her makeup. She’d also thrown on a navy blue sweater and a pair of dark was jeans with some brown boots.

“Listen soldier,” she looked defiant now, her chin turned up and her eyes hard. “I don’t need you or anybody else to feel sorry for me. I can handle this. I’ve been handling it since long before you walked into this penthouse, and I’ll be dealing with it after you leave, so you can shove that pity shit right up your ass.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky couldn’t help the words as his heart dropped. “What do you mean, ‘After I leave’?” You can’t possibly be thinking of staying with Rumlow.”

“No, you idiot,” she stepped forward and put her hands on her hips. “We’re gonna figure out whatever shit Brock’s been up to and put him in jail and,” her confidence slipped a little as she continued. “You and Natasha will leave, so I’ll have to figure out what to do next.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Darcy,” He tried to step forward, but stopped when she smacked a hand on his chest.

“I know you don’t,” she started with renewed vigor, “because that would make you a bigger moron than I thought you were!” She tossed her hair and stared at him with renewed confidence. “I’ll be able to do whatever the hell I want when I leave here. I’m brilliant. And hot. I can get whatever job I want, asshole.”

“I know!” He stepped back and raked his metal hand through his hair and took a breath. “I know you can. I don’t pity you. I wasn’t…I…”

“….yes?! You weren’t what exactly?” She looked as annoyed as he’d ever seen her, arms crossed and hip cocked.

“I—I’m not good at talking about, like, emotion stuff,” he took a frustrated breath, trying to push through. “But I know I wasn’t feeling pity back there in the kitchen. I was so angry, I couldn’t see straight for a second. I mean—“

He broke off, trying to collect his thoughts, and Darcy’s face softened as she watched him search for words. He looked down at the floor, trying to decide what to say next. Finally, he lifted his head and met her eyes with an intensity so fierce that Darcy took a step back.

“Seeing the way that bastard hurt you, all up close and personal on your skin like that, it makes me want to hurt Rumlow.”

He was breathing hard, and Darcy couldn't tell if that was because of the admission itself or the emotions he was concealing in this moment.

“I get it,” she tried to smile to lighten the mood. “I mean, I’ve wanted to kill him hundreds of times, I—“

“No,” Bucky stopped her, hold up a hand as he spoke. “I don’t—didn’t want to kill him. I wanted to hurt him. Slowly. Strategically. In ways that’d make him wish he was dead.”

Darcy’s eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“I can’t stand the thought of him walking around free right now,” he looked at her pleadingly. He wanted to stop the words, feeling shame rushing up the back of his neck, but once he’d started talking, he couldn’t stop. He was torn between hoping she’d somehow understand and the terror of how afraid and horrified she might be once she did.

“Letting him walk out of this penthouse was one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Darcy stared, remembering what Bucky had told her about being captured and understanding just how much weight that concession really had.

“And I know that’s fucked up,” he looked down, ashamed. “ I’m not proud of feelin’ like that. It’s not…nice. I’m not nice.”

“Wow,” he looked up, but was surprised to see Darcy looking at him with mild amusement and wonder. She took a step forward, laying a hand on his metal arm.

“Bucky, I know what ‘not nice” looks like. Up close.” She smiled a little, and his shoulders loosened a little.

“You’re not just nice. You’re fucking heroic.”

“Darcy, I—“

“No, no,” she paused him. “You’re still an asshole, don’t get me wrong. But you’re a heroic one. One who wants to fix things instead of breaking them. Trust me,” her smile turned a little bitter at the edges. “I know the difference.”

Bucky exhaled, realizing he was holding his breath.

“I don’t know about all that,” he tried to smile back. “But I don’t pity you. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course,” She smirked, walking past him and grabbing her purse. “I’m a bitch, but I’m human too.”

He grinned and rolled his eyes, thankful that terrifying and vulnerable moment was over.

“Now let’s get going,” she turned to grin at him with wink. “All your emotional baggage is making us late to meet Nat.”

“Oh fuck off,” he laughed, following her to the elevator.

***

“So he’s stealing.” Bucky stated after hearing Clint’s report.

“On epic, Bill Gates-esque proportions,” Clint affirmed, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “He’s been funneling cash into sixteen offshore accounts. Took me fucking hours to track.”

“So that’s enough, right?” Darcy asked. “It’s over. You’ve caught him”

“Hold on a sec,” Natasha interrupted. “That’s the problem. There’s no real proof.”

“But Clint just said—“

“I said he’s been stealing money. I didn’t say I had proof,” he groaned. “I may or may not have broken a few laws finding out where that money is going. It’s inadmissible. Won’t hold up in court.”

“Well fuck,” Darcy responded, sagging back in the booth.

“So where does that leave us? Clint? Nat?” Bucky asked his second and third in command.

“Well, it makes me wonder what’s behind those security doors for one thing,” Natasha responded. “I mean, how’s he getting access? How does the murder fit into all this?”

“I think they knew,” Darcy looked pensive as Bucky turned to her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Holly and Drew were good people,” she paused, getting her thoughts together before she continued. “I don’t think they would have just gone along with Brock stealing money. They woulda tried to stop him.”

“How high up in the company were they?” Clint asked, pulling out his phone and typing away.

“I mean, Drew was over finance for a while. Holly worked really closely with Pierce gaining new clients in Eastern Europe.”

“Well,” Nat stood, exhaling. “I still need to work through Rumlow’s personal files from the desktop. I’ll see what else I can find.”

“We’ll head to the security room,” Bucky stood too, making sure to offer Darcy a hand to stand. He’d noticed her stiffness since sitting down and was wondering if she was in pain. “See what we can find.”

“Great, Nat and I will call you if we find anything,” Clint took a swig of his drink and pocketed his phone.

“Go team,” Darcy muttered, sarcastically as they filed out of the diner.

“Go team,” Nat smirked back. “Talk to you two tonight.”

Bucky waved down their driver, helping Darcy into the car and walking around to sit beside her.

“How you feeling?”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much,” she snarked back.

“Oh really?” he leveled her with a stare. “Because you look like a stiff wind would knock you over the way your walkin’ so ginger.”

“Don’t worry,” she tossed her hair with a slight grimace. “I’ll be back to fighting shape soon.”

He smiled a little back at her and shifted around in his seat to reach into his pocket.

“Well in the meantime, I brought you some Advil,” he pressed three small capsules into her palm and pointed at a bottle of water in the cup holder in her door.

He noticed the way she looked genuinely surprised at the gesture. Hadn’t anyone looked out for her before? Ever?

He remembered how she’d mentioned a foster parent the first night they’d really talked. His mind raced as he watched her swallow down the pills quickly, trying her best to not looked so shocked at his kindness. He wondered what her life had looked like before Rumlow. She was so alive and vibrant, he imagined she had had many friends. She was probably a monster of a teenager. He couldn’t imagine her ever having been afraid of anyone.

He sighed. Then again, he couldn’t have imagined her being afraid of Rumlow, but he’d seen it firsthand. But she was still so dynamic and passionate.

She wasn’t easy.

He grinned a little, looking out the window.

_Yeah, but neither am I._

 


	9. Diamonds, Guilt, and Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a realization.
> 
> Bucky and Tony have an intense conversation.

Darcy and Bucky stood side by side in silence, but neither of them were tense.

Elevators usually made Bucky’s blood pressure skyrocket, and Darcy always hated being this close to a powerful man alone, but not this time.

Darcy found herself noticing her proximity to Bucky, and not in a negative way. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his profile. She let her eyes travel from his strong jaw up to the corner of his mouth. His face was tilted down, and his normal stoic expression was replaced with a tiny smile.

_He looks relaxed._

Darcy quickly wracked her brain, trying to remember if she’d ever seen him look this at ease. He was always so poised for action, standing like a loaded spring at all points. Now, his stance was wide, his face looked calm, and he had most of his weight leaned to one sides. Towards her.

When he’d leaned in and given her medicine in the car, she’d felt so flustered. He was supposed to be her bodyguard, so Darcy expected him to watch her, but looking after her comfort felt different than simply watching. He cared. Or, at least, he didn’t not care. He had enough feeling towards her to remember her wounds. He also had to know her well enough to know that she’d forget to bring painkillers with her.

Being known like that, with that kind of intimacy, by this powerful, sexy man made her heart turn over in her chest. Bucky oozed masculinity in a way that should terrify her. But somehow, the more she got to know him, the less he frightened her, and the closer she wanted him. Being with Bucky was waking up a desire that she didn’t know she could still feel, not after Brock.

She thought about the way he touched her the night before. He’d held onto her with confidence and thoughtful attention, watching her carefully to make sure she know she was safe. He’d pulled her against his chest. He’d smelled like musky aftershave, something spicy and earthy and completely male. His fingers hand threaded themselves into the hair at the base of her neck. The thought of his hands on her made her shiver now. He’d whispered and breathed into her ear, speaking words of praise, his mouth so close to the pulse point on her.

Suddenly, Darcy didn’t feel comfortable at all. She felt her cheeks flush and white hot desire flashed through her. She shifted, trying to shake the attraction, but Bucky noticed her movement.

“Still in pain, Darce?” His voice was deep and husky, and his brows had drawn together, concerned.

“Nah, I’m good,” she directed her attention solely towards the floor.

“Ah,” he sighed in understanding, and her blood turned to ice in her veins thinking he could see right through her. “I get antsy in elevators too. Something about the small space.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” she replied a little too quickly.

“Yeah? You sure you’re—“

The elevator blessedly dinged and interrupted whatever Bucky was about to say.

***

“You know, for a private security company, it was wildly easy for me to get into this fancy penthouse,” Tony Stark was seated comfortably on the couch swirling a glass of scotch from Rumlow’s liquor cabinet when they arrived.

“I would have hoped it would be difficult for me to get up here.”

“You must be Stark!” Bucky watched as Darcy quickly bounced into the living room. Her whole demeanor changed into that of a hostess. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Darcy.”

He stood took her hand, kissing the knuckles and glancing over at Bucky to gage his reaction. Much to his own annoyance, Bucky stiffened. Tony smirked.

“I’ve read quite a bit about you,” Tony sat down again, and this time Darcy joined him. Bucky felt uncomfortable and out of place. Normally he’d take the seat next to Darcy, but with Tony here, watching, he didn’t want to seem too familiar to Darcy.

“Barnes has been writing reports that Shakespeare’d be jealous of,” Tony smiled at Darcy, and Bucky felt a blush creeping up his neck.

“Oh really?” Darcy turned to stare pointedly at Bucky. “What does the soldier say about me?”

Thrilled with the opening, Tony began to respond with a full blown smile, but Bucky cut him off.

“I keep thoroughly detailed reports,” he moved forward trying to look confident even though he felt bashful. “I track your movements. Explain what you did that day. You know, my job? Watching you?”

“Huh,” Tony grinned. “And here I thought you just stood in a corner all day. You actually doing work here, Buckaroo? Not just writing report-style sonnets about Mrs. Lewis cuddling with her cat?”

Bucky refused to be embarrassed.

“You may find this shocking, boss, but some of us work for a living.” He took a seat in the chair across from Tony, waiting to see what the man wanted to say.

“Yes well,” Tony stood. “Actually that’s why I’m here. I’ve got some presents that should make this job a little easier. For both of you.”

He opened a black case sitting on the counter.

“After all, diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” he turned to Darcy holding a a smaller case with two beautiful diamond stud earrings.

“Mr. Stark, I couldn’t,” Darcy looked flustered.

“Ah, yea, you can. The diamonds aren’t the best part,” He produced a small tablet from the case. “This is for RoboCop.”

Bucky moved forward and took the tablet from Tony.

“Turn the studs one quarter to the right.”

Darcy did so, and the screen sprang to life, a live feed from the earrings.

“This way you can always have an eye on Rumlow without being in the room”

“Or I can actually spy for you,” Darcy was grinning, and Bucky began to feel uneasy.

“These are really great, Tony, but I can’t think of a time when she won’t be with me.”

“How about when I go downstairs to the security room by myself so that we don’t draw any suspicion?”

“I don’t think—“

“That’s a splendid idea!” Tony interrupted. “Barnes and I will sit here and wait for you. I want to make sure there are no bugs in the system before I go anyway.”

“I could go with her while you wait up here,” Bucky suggested, trying not to sound too concerned.

“ _She_ is perfectly fine going on her own, thank you very much,” Darcy quirked an eyebrow at Bucky as she put on the earrings.

“Don’t worry, Buckaroo,” Tony stared Bucky down, silent challenge. “We’ll be able to see whatever she does. If she gets into trouble, you can run down there and hit someone over the head. Until then,” he turned and sank back down into the couch. “We’ll just relax up here and watch.”

“Perfect!” Darcy grabbed her purse quickly. Bucky was annoyed to see how excited she seemed. She really had no sense of self-preservation.

“Just be careful,” he grunted out, making his way to sit next to Tony on the couch.

“Yes, dad,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back in a few. In an out. No harm done.”

And with that, Darcy turned to the elevator.

***

“Why are you really here?” Bucky asked after the elevator door closed. “You never make house calls.”

“And you never smile, except, it seems” he looked down at the tablet. “When a certain brunette client verbally puts you in your place.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tony looked up sharply.

“Then let me enlighten you,” He stood and refilled his glass of scotch. “I’m concerned.”

Bucky inhaled but said nothing, waiting.

“Both yours and Nat’s reports explained what happened. What Brock did to her,” he looked angry, but Bucky didn’t know if that was aimed toward him or Rumlow. “You’re my head of security training. You’re the scariest, broodiest mother fucker I know.”

He sat down across from Bucky in the chair, leaning forward.

“And yet, from what I could tell just now and from the reports, Darcy’s had the shit kicked out of her by her dick of a boyfriend,” he leaned back. “So I want an explanation. Where the hell were you?”

That caught Bucky off guard. Tony’s eyes were hard and accusing. He looked as angry as Bucky had ever seen. The fustration and guilt Bucky had spent the last two days burying came rushing back like a flood. He knew he’d messed up. He knew this was his fault. He swallowed, searching for the right words to explain that to Tony.

“I know,” he started. “We took too long to put the pieces together.” He glanced at the security tablet then stared down at the floor. “She got hurt because I didn’t see what was really happening until it was too late.”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

Bucky looked up to assess Tony. His face was now carefully blank, watching Bucky like a hawk. Bucky wondered what Tony was trying to see. Tony knew what Bucky was. He knew that Bucky lived with a darkness. It was the reason he didn’t trust him with the business decisions. It was the reason he hadn’t asked Bucky to be a partner. He knew Bucky had a violent, murderous side, and unlike Steve, Tony didn’t have any fondness for Bucky’s other attributes to balance it out.

“No. I didn’t kill him. God help me, I let him walk out of this apartment after we talked to the police,” he sighed. “But I knew what he’d done. I hadn’t seen Darcy yet, but the way he spoke, the things he was braggin’ about,” he shook his head in disgust. “They’d have made you sick, Tony. It was like he was proud of hurtin’ someone who couldn’t hurt him back. Proud of makin’ her feel small and scared. Made me want to hurt him. But I let the bastard walk.”

Then there was silence. Tony said nothing. He stared at Bucky, contemplating quietly while Bucky ducked his head in shame. Finally, he spoke.

“You’re a better man than I give you credit for,” Bucky’s head snapped up as Tony continued. “And possibly than you give yourself for.”

“What?”

“I had to know that you wouldn’t let your personal feelings for Darcy get in the way of this job,” Tony smiled a little and lifted a hand as Bucky tried to deny it.

“Don’t bother with a denial. You have some feelings for her. You don’t so much as blink when Natasha bats her eyes at you, but all this girl has to do is blink, and you turn all red and bumbling. But I thought they’d get in the way. Make you sloppy. Make you do something idiotic like kill our biggest client in history before we could prove what an asshole he is,” he took a swig of scotch. “But you didn’t. And I wonder if you know how impressive that is.”

Bucky now flushed for a whole different reason. He knew Tony hated him.

“I—Uh, I mean, I,” he tried to form words, say thank you, but he couldn’t make the sentence work right.

“You’re welcome,” Tony smiled. “Now, let’s focus on the task at hand, shall we? Darcy’s walking into the security room now.”

Bucky turned his attention fully to the tablet, elated that Tony never made him talk about his emotions. The man was just as afraid of them as he was. He cleared his mind of the uncomfortable conversation and switched into security mode.

“Oh no,” Bucky mumbled, looking at a figure who had just appeared on the screen. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Is he a threat?” Tony asked quickly.

“He’s Rumlow’s right hand man,” Bucky looked up at Tony, worried. “He’s hurt her before, I think.”

Tony stood quickly. He grabbed his briefcase and his coat.

“Then it looks like it might be time to go to work. You comin’?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for Bucky and Darcy to get a little closer? ;) I cannot wait to show you all the next chapter! Thanks so much for reading!!


	10. Combustible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets to be the hero.
> 
> Darcy gives Bucky a chance.
> 
> Bucky takes it.

In hindsight, Darcy probably should have expected Pierce to be in the security room.

She opened the door and inhaled in shock at the scene in front of her.

“Darcy,” he turned to face her with surprise. “What brings you here?”

This wasn’t a security center at all. This room was an entrance to something bigger. Pierce was sitting in front of a giant screen that had gone dark the second she’d opened the door. There were two other doors ahead of her, just past Pierce, and there were three standing guards behind Pierce.

“I wanted to see if you needed my bodyguard to come by,” she gulped, trying not to let her internal panic show. “He’s been asking if he needs to check in with our existing security system.”

It wasn’t a total lie, and it allowed her a moment to steady herself and remember that both Stark and Bucky could see what she was seeing.

“How…thorough of him.”

Pierce smiled, but it was sharp and cold and sinister. He took a few steps closer to Darcy.

“So you thought you’d just waltz in here and check it out for him? Help him out?”

His voice was sarcastic.

“He had a meeting with Stark, so I came down here while he’s busy.” She took a step back, watching as Pierce moved like a rattlesnake, ready to strike.

“Well,” Darcy heard the door close behind her as Pierce closed the distance between them, trapping her between himself and the wall. “It has been far too long since I spent some quality time with you. I’m sure Brock wouldn’t mind if you and I went over some of the details of his latest deal a little more..privately.” His grin widened, and he stepped into her space, his chest connecting with hers, and roughly placed a hand on the back of her neck.

He stepped back and drug Darcy forward. She closed her eyes, and Bucky's face came to her mind. She wondered how he would feel, seeing this. Would he be mad at her? Would his fierce warrior mode come out? Would he try to kill these guards?

“I don’t know if you’ve met the new men, D.” He pushed her forward forcefully at the three guards. The one in the middle caught her, pulling both of her arms behind her back.

“Hi there,” he smirked as Darcy struggled to free her arms. “This one’s got some spunk, huh boss?” He looked over her head at Pierce Darcy saw her opening, and brought her knee up quickly, jabbing the guard in the crotch. If Bucky was watching, she wanted him to see her struggle at least--to see her fight.

“You bitch!” He released her, groaning and grabbing crotch in pain. Darcy struggled, trying to make her way towards the door, but the other two guards caught her, one grabbing her by the hair, turning her head roughly.

“Yeah,” Pierce let out an empty laugh. “She’s something.”

The guards forced her down to her knees in front of Pierce, and he ducked down to her level, staring her in the eye.

“You know, I—“ Darcy cut off his next sentence by spitting in his face. He paused, stood back up, and cracked his neck.

“You know,” he began again, “This would go much easier if you’d just comply.”

She stared up at him with defiance.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Without so much as a warning, Pierce kicked her in the stomach twice, connecting the toe of his shoe with her stomach to knock the wind out of her.

“I do prefer you silent, D.” He grabbed her hair again, tugging forward. “Okay, let’s move this to a move private location.” He yanked her to her feet, and on of the guards opened the door on the right.

Suddenly, the door to the security room burst open, broken on the hinges. Stunned, Pierce dropped his hold on Darcy’s hair, turning to see none other than Tony Stark standing there, holding a sledgehammer.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” he looked penitent enough, but Darcy could see a lingering smirk in the corner of his mouth. “A guy at the front desk asked me to come open this door. Said he couldn’t get in to clean yesterday, and since I’m a security guru and all…”

He trailed off with a wave of his hand.

“You always make a grand entrance, Stark?” Pierce stepped in front of Darcy and reached out his hand to shake Tony’s, plastering on a charming smile.

“Whenever I can,” Tony grasped the other man’s hand. “Adds to the mystique.”

He looked over Pierce’s shoulder and made eye contact with Darcy, who was now standing on her own between the three guards.

“Mrs. Lewis,” he addressed her, stepping around Pierce. “I think the Tin Man upstairs is starting to get antsy. He’s great with structure, but turns a little panicky when things surprise him. Your little stunt running away from him has him all in a tizzy. Plus, you and I still need to go over the specifics of the ‘I-will-not-run-away-from-my-bodyguard’ clause in the contract. Barnes says he’s lost track of you four times.”

Pierce looked skeptical. Darcy couldn’t believe how easily the lie poured out of the smartly dressed man in front of them.

“Barnes is working for Rumlow, so technically he works for me,” he glanced back at Darcy. “And I was just about to have a word with Mrs. Lewis about some of our new clients.”

“Ah,” Tony looked at him with mock surprise. “And here I thought we were contracted out to Rumlow exclusively. I should read the fine print a little better next time because that would mean your boss Rumlow owes me a little more money for our service. You’ll have to forgive me,” he bowed in sarcastic apology. “All that paperwork can get so boring.”

The thought of having to explain any new expenses to Rumlow seemed to catch Pierce’s attention. Darcy saw his stance soften, shoulders lowering.

“Ah. I guess that’s true,” he turned to Darcy. “Don’t worry, D. I’ll make sure you and I have that meeting real soon.”

“Yeah, I can’t fucking wait,” Darcy stepped forward looking at Tony. “Come on up to the Penthouse, Mr. Stark. We’ll figure out a system that will work for me and the soldier you’ve got following me around.”

“Oh how wonderful,” Stark sniped with sarcasm. “I love nothing more than to negotiate my client’s safety while they roll their eyes.”

As the two of them exited, he turned to look at Pierce one last time.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Mr. Pierce. Try not to lock my client behind any doors in the meantime.”

Darcy couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Pierce shrink back a little before the door closed.

***

“I wasn’t lying,” Tony commented as he walked Darcy to the elevator and Darcy turned the stud earrings, turning the cameras off. “Barnes’ is walking laps upstairs. You should stop putting yourself in situations like that.”

“I live in a situation like that, Tony,” Darcy said with a sad smile. “And that sounds an awful lot like victim blaming.” She looked at him sharply as the reached the elevator doors. “It’s not like I knew what I was getting into with Brock.”

“You’re right,” he put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. “None of this is your fault. But Barnes is my responsibility.” He took a deep breath like he was trying to decide on what to say. Darcy inhaled, thinking about what it might mean that Bucky was so worried for her his boss was concerned.

“He’s an absolute asshole,” Tony continued finally. “But he’s also a good man. A loyal man. And for some reason,” he paused and smiled a little at her. “You seem to worry him quite a bit. More than anyone I’ve ever seen him around. He seems rather taken with you.”

He straightened up and grew sarcastic once again.“Read whatever you want into that. I’m just saying, take some pity on the guy. He’s probably waiting with a med kit as we speak. Speaking of,” he raised an eyebrow. “How hurt are you?”

“No more than I was when I went into that room,” she shrugged. “Your soldier’s been playing nursemaid. I’m feeling much better than I was this morning. Pierce just knocked the air out of me. No real damage. He’s a little afraid of Brock, I think.”

The elevator arrived and she stepped inside, turning to face Tony.

“I promise, I’ll try not to worry Bucky.”

“Oh no,” now Tony smiled with a glint in his eye. “Torture him all you want. Just do it on purpose, not by accident.”

The doors closed quickly, but not before Darcy saw Tony’s smile turn genuine.

She thought about what Tony had said. Maybe Bucky did like her. Maybe she wasn’t just another job to him. She felt some butterflies wake back up in her stomach as she pictured what he’d look like when she reached the penthouse.

She smiled to herself.

_I’ve certainly had worse crushes._

***

Bucky felt like he was going to explode.

When he’d seen Pierce’s face on the tablet screen, his heart had sunk in his chest and his blood pressure had spiked.

_Why did I let her go alone?_

He’d asked himself the question at least three hundred times in the last fifteen minutes. He was pacing from the kitchen to the elevator.

Stark had gotten there. Stark had both gotten Darcy out of harm’s way and kept their operation undercover. Bucky knew he should be grateful, knew he should feel thankful to his boss, but jealousy had welled up inside him the second he heard Darcy’s relieved sigh upon seeing Tony. He wanted to be there. He wanted her to see that he was capable of keeping her safe. Bucky desperately wanted Darcy’s trust.

He thought back to that morning as he turned from the kitchen to continue his circuit to the elevator. He remembered how the dress she’d wanted to wear hugged her hip so perfectly. He could still feel the warmth from her skin. He wished he'd relished that warmth longer, appreciated the way her skin had felt underneath his fingers. She was so fucking gorgeous, all those curves and curls. The way her eyes sparked when she looked at him. The way she’d bite her full bottom lip when she was teasing him. A hot twist of desire wound its way through him.

He groaned.

And now she was hurt again. He felt the rage he’d been fighting to keep at bay surfacing. Pierce had fucking kicked her. She’d spit in his face, and he’d kicked her for it. Those guards had put their hands on her. He cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders, imagining all of the ways he could make those men bleed. Darcy was a goddess. She should be worshiped. He was going to make sure everyone knew that before this was all over.

As he rounded the corner again, the elevator dinged, and Darcy stepped out. Her hair was wild. Her eyes were bright and alive. She looked relieved to see him, and with the desire and rage coursing through his veins, he said the first thing he could think of.

“You have to stop being such a complete moron and trying to do this alone!”

Darcy’s look of relief turned sharp.

“I didn’t come back up here for a lecture, Sarge!”

He took two steps closer, putting about three feet between them. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing.

“Why do you insist on making my job so damn hard?! You could have been—“

“I know what could have happened, you walnut-brained idiot! I was fucking there!” She took a step towards him, eyes wild. “And all I could think about was your imbecilic face! You and your stupid eyes and stupid smile and your—“

He closed the distance between the two of them in one step.

“You’re all I ever think about anymore, you self-righteous prick,” she tried to sound angry, but her voice was wavering.

That was all the encouragement Bucky needed. He put both hands in her hair at the base of her scalp and drew her in for a hungry kiss filled with all of the rage and desire and need he’d been battling. Darcy yielded quickly, opening her mouth to his onslaught, hands gripping the front of his shirt like she couldn’t get close enough.

Bucky backed her towards the nearest wall, gripping her body against his, feeling her curves press against him. He kissed her hard, exploring her mouth, before breaking this kiss, leaving her breathless, and traveling down her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses at the place right under her ear. She let out a needy, dirty moan in response.

“God Darce, the sounds you make,” he gently brushed his teeth over the spot to see if he could get the same response and felt himself grow hard when she moaned again. “ You sound real pretty darlin’.”

She inhaled deeply at his words, rolling her head to the side to give him more access, mouth open in pleasure, practically melting.

 _Interesting_ , Bucky thought with delight.

“So good for me, doll,” he mumbled into her skin. He moved to slot his thigh between her legs, wanting to see her come undone for him, there on the wall, just rubbing herself against his thigh while he talked her through it. He wanted to make her feel good, feel what it could be like to trust him to take care of her like this.

“Ah—I,” she let out a pained sound and Bucky’s world snapped back into focus. He imminently stepped back. She was in pain. He’d completely forgotten the trauma her body had been through in the last three days. The haze of want running though his veins froze. Feeling like a complete asshole for not noticing her pain, he turned away from her, trying to give them both a little space to breathe while he figured out what to do next.

“I’m so sorry Darcy,” he spoke with his hands in his hair, his back to her. “I shouldn’t have attacked you like that. I mean, you’ve just been through hell, and here I am pushing you to—“

“Just please,” her voice sounded so small and broken, so unlike her, that Bucky had to turn around to face her.

“Please don’t leave. I won’t tell anyone, I’m sorry, I know you’re not…I’m not…this isn’t what you're here for, but please Bucky,” he was stricken to see a tear roll down her cheek. “Please don’t leave.”

He took a second, trying to put the pieces together, wondering how on earth she’d gotten the impression he would ever be anywhere without her ever again, let alone leave her here. She must have thought he didn’t like it. Or that he was ashamed of her. Or that he’d be like Rumlow, take what he wanted and leave her to pick up the pieces again. He had to fix this. He put both hands up in surrender.

“No, no, Darcy,” stepping back to her, he combed one hand through her curls, using his metal hand to raise her face to meet his eyes. He tried with all his might to put the things he was feeling into words.

“I’m not going anywhere. You could send me away, but I’d just sit outside that door and listen to you breath. I want you. In my bed? Yes, god, yes,” he moved both hands to cradle her face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear stain on her cheek. “But I want to be with you all the time—with my friends, outside of work and this penthouse. I want everyone to know you’re mine. I wanna try to build a life with you.”

The veracity of his words caught him off guard. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, but he knew he had to finish this, say the damn things, jump off the ledge and see if she’d jump with him.

“I just let my want get in the way of my reason,” he smiled ruefully. “You need to heal and think and we need to go slow. I want to treat you so good, baby. I’m sorry I got all ahead of myself like that.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, thinking. After what seemed like a fucking lifetime, she spoke.

“I want to try,” he could see hope and fear and desire all flutter across her face at the confession. “I can’t promise I’m gonna be good at any of this. I’ve got a few…hangups after this thing with Brock.”

Bucky’s mouth and eyes turned fierce at the man’s name.

“I know,” he sighed, smiling a little. “I’ve got some pretty big hangups too. Tony knows some good therapists. We can go slow. Figure it all out together.”

“Slow?” now she smiled for real. “Slow like dry-fucking me against the wall?”

He blushed scarlet now, feeling bashful and shy, but tried to push through.

“Slow like taking you on a date. To a nice restaurant,” he stepped back and linked their hands together between them. “Slow like getting to know you. So you know I mean it.” His eyes traveled down to their hands.

“So you know I’m not going anywhere.”

She bit her lip, feeling a little giddy and embarrassed.

“Is this all happening before or after we catch my boyfriend in a criminal charge?”

He looked up, surprised.

“During?” he grinned. “I should say ‘After,’ I know. But I like to set realistic expectations for myself. Being around you 24/7 will make ‘After’ impossible.”

“You know Brock will kill you if he finds out,” She looked serious now, brow furrowed. “Or me. Or both of us.”

“I would love for him to try,” Bucky tried to smile to lighten the words, but it didn’t reach the ferocity in his eyes. “I’ve thought about nothing but killing him since I found out what he does to you," He inhaled deeply.

"Did you know the Russians used me to torture prisoners?”

“Bucky, that’s terrible,” she reached up and touch his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Usually I am too,” his honest eyes had grown more blue. He never knew how to talk about this, and he couldn’t believe he was doing it now, but he wanted to be honest with her.

“Told you, I’ve got some pretty intense hang ups.” He’s rueful smile was back. “But for the first time in my life, I’m pretty hopeful I can put some of those skills to good use.”

“Okay. We’ll go slow,” Darcy said, changing the subject.“Can we start with a movie in tonight? I’m a little bit completely and emotionally and physically exhausted.”

They turned to make there way deeper into the penthouse together.

“Sounds good. Just please don’t make me watch some stupid Disney shit.”

“Nuh uh, Sarge,” she turned her head, looking at him with all the attitude and gusto he’d become accustom to with her. She was all fire and sparks, going 180 miles per hour and pulling up tea a dead stop. He wouldn’t have her any other way.

“I’m the damsel in distress, so we’re gonna watch whatever I want to fucking watch. End of story.”

With that, she turned to make her way to the couch. As he followed her, Bucky felt his heart pounding so hard, he thought he was was going to combust.

She was everything, and he was going to prove that to her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally kissssssssseed! I loved them so! Thank you for reading!


	11. Plots and The Princess Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock is concerned. 
> 
> Darcy struggles to find her footing.
> 
> Bucky helps.

Rumlow was restless.

According to Pierce, Darcy had wandered into the control room unannounced, only to be hastened back up to the penthouse by Tony Fucking Stark.

He cracked his knuckles and grunted in frustration, looking out the window of the hotel room.

“Something wrong, love?” a soft, feminine voice asked from the bed. Annoyed, he turned around to see the girl he’d fucked earlier lying on her stomach naked with her face resting on her folded arms and her legs bent and crossed behind her.

“What are you still doing here?” he scoffed, striding back to the bed. He wound his right hand into her hair and pulled her head back to look up at his from her position. “We’re done. Get the fuck out of my hotel before I throw you out.”

He yanked her head backward and let go roughly. Whimpering, the woman quickly grabbed her clothes and scampered out of the room. He listened to hear the front door shut before pouring himself a glass of bourbon and returning to his position at the window.

Darcy was smart. He’d liked that about her at first. He’d liked the way she’d thought. He’d even liked her sharp tongue. Thinking back to the first time he met her, he wandered briefly if he’d ever had feelings deeper than lust and desire and possession for her. He wanted her under his control.

He remembered the look on her face the night he’d fucked her before he’d left. She’d been terrified, and it had made him feel powerful to see her—this loud, confident, brazen woman—all whiny and frightened. He’d done that. He’d made her face his power and what he could do to her if she decided to step out of line. She’d never defy him, not after he’d reminded her who she belonged to.

His phone buzzed and broke him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Brock, I think your little lady may be getting bolder.”

“Did you talk to the bodyguard like I asked you?” he seethed into the phone.

“Not yet, but I’m going to tomorrow.”

“Fine. Once we’re sure we can trust him, she won’t be a problem anymore. Hell, he may even enjoy helping Darcy learn her place,” he grinned to himself. “Poor bastard’s had to follow her around for weeks. I’m sure he’s ready to kill her.”

“You sure he’s …uh…our kind of guy, boss?”

“He’s ex-military. He’s isolated himself. He’s chomping at the bit to earn Stark’s approval. Practically licking the guy’s balls to get some respect,” he sipped the bourbon, enjoying the burn down his throat. “He just needs a push in the right direction with the right motivation. I have a feeling he’ll jump at the chance for success, particularly with the STRIKE team.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

Brock’s lips tightened into a thin line.

“Then we kill him.”

***

Darcy couldn’t see straight. She stumbled a little, glancing back to make sure Bucky was making his way to the couch instead of following her into the kitchen. She reached down, picking Loki up from his hiding spot under a table and held him to her chest, listening to him put gently. She needed a minute.

Never in her life had a man kissed her like that. She shivered, thinking about his voice, low and warm and insistent in her ear. His large hands holding her hips, grinding her down over his thigh, guiding her body. His chest pressing her against the wall, all solid muscle. She set Loki down and poured herself a glass of water and took a breath.

“Do you want to make something or do you want to order take out?” she asked, trying to make her brain do something useful, distract herself.

“Let’s make something,” he walked over to the counter, standing across from her, looking calm, cool, and collected. “Better yet, let me make you something.”

“You don’t have to do that, Buck,” she felt shy all the sudden, thrown off by his confident surety. While the kiss had wrecked havoc on her own emotions, it seemed to have stilled something in him. He looked relaxed and comfortable, and it was freaking her the fuck out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he moved around the counter, stopping in front of her to rest his hands on her hips, smiling gently down at her. The pet name made her insides squirm in a good way. “But I haven’t wanted to impress a lady in a long time, and you let me kiss you, so now, I wanna make you dinner.”

“Can I help?” she tried to meet his steady gaze, but her heart was beating out of her chest.

“Okay,” he turned and began gathering pots and pans and knives from around the kitchen. “I’ll let you help, but I’d like it if you let me do this for you.”

She studied him while he grabbed some ingredients out of the fridge. Why did he insist on doing nice things for her? He looked excited about it. No one had ever cooked for her before. Hell, no one had bought her a cup of coffee in years, much less cooked her a meal.

“Alright,” she agreed. “What can I do?”

He turned to look at her with a dazzling smile.

“You can stir the pot,” he winked. “We’re making beef stroganoff.”

***

An hour and a half later, they had two bowls of beef stroganoff loaded onto a tray with red wine and fresh bread. Darcy was proud of the food they made, but she was starting to get incredibly tired, and the pain in her back had escalated from a dull throb to a sharp pain anytime she moved.

“How opposed would you be to eating with me while we sit in my bed?” she was a little timid about asking him to enter her most private space, but the thought of sitting on the couch and trying to get comfortable made her hurt

Bucky had been looking down at the tray to secure the spoons and forks, but when she spoke, his eyes shot up to meet hers.

“Oh Darcy,” he looked sheepish. “I am so sorry. You must be dying, huh? Standing on this tile all night. I got all caught up cookin’ with you, I didn’t think about the way—“

“Buck. Stop,” she waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m a fucking adult. I know when to sit down. I had fun helping. Now I’m asking if we can get more comfortable because I’m sore. Stop creating things to feel guilty for.”

His worried face broke into a sly grin.

“You just trying to get me in bed, Darcy?” His face was alight with teasing confidence.

“Absolutely, Soldier,” she grinned back as they walked to the bedroom. “I like having a human pillow.”

She opened the door for him to follow. Her room was fairly clean, and she went to the closet to get out something to sleep in, blushing with the realization that she needed to change.

_I’m really not ready to be naked in front of him. That’s…too much right now._

She gulped, a little nervous to turn around and explain her concern to him.

“I’m gonna go change into some sweats and a different t-shirt,” he said quietly with a small smile. “You can get comfy while I’m gone.”

Darcy exhaled, thankful that he’d sensed her discomfort.

Ten minutes later, they were spread out on the bed, Darcy propped up against pillows, tucked under the covers with Bucky sitting next to her.

“Is it a love story?” he asked through a full mouth, skeptical.

“It’s literally all of the things,” she explained, clicking on The Princess Bride. “You’ll love it. I’ve literally never met anyone who doesn’t like this movies.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll let you pick a romantic movie. But at some point, you have to watch The Departed with me.”

“Fine, fine,” she waved dismissively, pressing play.

***

Two hours later as the credits rolled, Bucky looked over at Darcy, unsurprised to see her fast asleep. As quietly as he could, he tiptoed out of the room into the kitchen carrying their dishes to the sink.

He turned back to the guest room, expecting to turn off the light, and was surprised to see Darcy fully awake in the doorway. She was shifting her weight from side to side, eyes darting around the room avoiding his.

_She’s nervous._

“Darcy?” He asked stepping forward. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“Listen, I know what I’m about to ask isn’t fair because I don’t want us to…I mean, I want us to go slow, but,” she exhaled an looked him in the eye. “I would really like it if you wanted to stay. I mean, just sleep next to me, not like….” she paused, searching for the right words, then began rambling in earnest. “Actually, you know what? Nevermind. This is stupid. I don’t know what I’m even trying to ask you. You’ve done so much for me today anyway, I can’t believe I even—“

“Darcy,” he stopped her, stepping into her space and placing he hands on her hips, letting his thumbs drift underneath her shirt, drawing slow circles on her skin. “I would very much like to sleep next to you tonight.”

She grinned.

“Okay good.”

They made there way back to the bed, and Bucky held the covers up for Darcy while she snuggled into the right side of the bed near the wall. He came around to the other side and slipped under the comforter next to her.

The laid there, next to each other without talking or moving for five minutes. Bucky could hear Darcy’s heart beating out of her chest. He couldn’t tell if she was nervous, excited, or terrified, but her anxiety was killing him. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch her. When he heard her rapid breathing increase, he gave in.

“Darce? Honey,” he turned onto his side to look at her. “Can I hold you a little? Or would you rather me not be here?”

“No!” She said quickly, turning over with a wince to face him. “I’ve just…I’ve never slept with a man before.”

He looked bewildered. 

“You mean you’ve never—“

“No, I mean, I’ve fucked men,” Bucky winced at her word choice. “But I’ve never slept next to a man before.” She looked down, sheepish but grinning.

“Oh,” he smiled back. “Well then I’m glad to be your first. Get your ass over here.” He opened his arms, letting her slide next to him, metal arm draped over her. He liked having her tucked into him. He turned, becoming the big spoon, holding her close.

“This is good,” she sighed, melting against his warmth. “You’re fucking cuddly, and I absolutely love it.”

“Noted,” he murmured into her ear, liking the way she shivered at his voice. He let the silence drag on for a few minutes, enjoying feeling her in his arms, then spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of you sleeping alone. And I hate thinking about what he does to you.”

She tilted her head to the side, making eye contact with him.

“I know,” she confirmed simply. “But when he gets back, you’ll have a part to play. You’ll probably have to be mean to me if you want him to trust you.”

He tightened his grip around her.

“I never wanna be mean to you, Darcy. You’ve had enough of that.”

“Yeah,” she turned to kiss the stubble on his chin. “But I want this to work. So do you." She breathed out slowly. "So you’ll be mean. I’ll live.”

“Damn straight,” he growled with more ferocity than he meant to. “But tonight, I don’t want you to worry. I want you to feel safe and protected and—“ he stopped himself from saying ‘loved,’ burying his nose in her hair instead. “You deserve to feel safe, doll.” His lips found the back of her neck, and he opened his mouth to kiss her there, unable to help himself from wanting her to melt for him, even just a little.

“God Buck, you’re mouth,” she sighed, arching a little against him.

He smiled, taking his time and pressing a final gentle kiss to the back of her throat, moving his hands to her stomach and pulling her closer gently.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he mumbled as she leaned back against him, sagging in comfort. “We’ve got time for that, doll. I just want you to be safe.”

“Safe,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Safe,” he confirmed. “Let’s sleep, Darcy. I set an alarm, I’ll wake us up in the morning. Get some rest.”

“ ‘Kay,” she sighed, going limp in his arms.

Bucky stayed awake for a while. This was as close to a perfect moment as he’d ever had, and he wanted to soak it all up before sleep took him too.

 _This is going to work_ , he assured himself. _Then maybe this could be real._

Allowing himself to dream about a future for the first time in years, Bucky let Darcy’s breathing lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you for reading. I just love these two. I appreciate you for sticking with this story!


	12. Lingerie and Letting Go*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint brief Bucky on the plan.
> 
> Steve takes Darcy shopping.
> 
> Bucky shows Darcy how well he can take care of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! You simply cannot know how much it means to me to hear your feedback, so thank you in advance. 
> 
> Just a heads up, this chapter contains adult sexual content.

The bar was dark. There were vintage glass lamps hanging above each table that cast low golden light on the patrons. The mirror behind the bar was covered in spots and smudges. The liquor bottles were all open, and the bartender was well past the age of caring to listen to his customers. Bucky loved it here.

“We have to find out what’s they’re doing behind those doors,” Clint asserted.

“I know,” Bucky agreed, taking a sip of his beer.

“That means you’re going to have to play your part, Barnes,” Nat looked at him with intensity. “You have to become a part of his team. Undercover op.”

“We hacked into the hotel mainframe,” Clint passed documents across the table to Bucky. He had to strain to read the docs in the dim light of the bar, but he could clearly see the word highlighted in the center of the page: murder.

“He’s been going after other businesses,” Nat spoke quietly. “He’s got a trained team. They go in and take out business opposition. Make it look like a break in or an accident.” Bucky shifted through the papers noticing the gruesome pictures attached to the files as Nat continued. Glancing up, he noticed the fearful look in her eyes. “They’re real….bloody. Sinister. They keep trophies.”

Bucky continued shifting through the pages, stopping to stare at a particularly gory murder scene in a hotel room.

“Why do they do it?” he asked, eyes still trained on the photo.

“What do you mean?” Clint looked perplexed.

“Why do the men on this team follow Rumlow?”

Nat sighed. “His men all come from a very similar…pattern.”

Bucky looked up now, waiting to hear what Natasha had to say.

“They’re all ex-military. Most of them were injured or dishonorably discharged,” she looked pensive, measuring her words. “He finds men who feel disenfranchised. Disrespected. Men who feel like the world didn’t give them the praise they deserved after going to war. Like seventy percent of them have wrap sheets a mile long implicating them in violent crimes. Most of them have abusive backgrounds and run-ins with authority.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. He was growing more uneasy with each piece of information Nat dispelled.

“In short?” she shrugged. “He finds men like you.”

Bucky was stunned into silence then, unsure what to say next.

“Which is why,” Clint quickly picked up on the tension and opted to change tactics. “We know he will try to recruit you. He knows you and Stark aren't exactly best buddies. He knows about your past. He specifically asked for you to be assigned to Darcy.” Clint leaned forward. “He wants you to become a member of his team.”

“This is so fucked up,” Bucky groaned in frustration, finding his voice for the first time.

“Which means,” Nat interjected. “You’re going to have to convince Rumlow that you’re on his team. An’ you can’t let…anything get in the way”

Bucky could feel his blood boil.

“I’m going to kill that motherfucker,” his voice was eerie quiet. l“I’m going to string him up and cut him open an’ make him bleed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint waved a hand dismissively. “You can do whatever you want to him when we catch him. Hell, Nat and I’ll distract the police for you.” He leaned in close, looking at Bucky intently. “But until then, you have to convince him.”

“What evidence do we need?” Bucky asked, trying to avoid thinking about what he might have to do to convince Rumlow of his loyalty.

“We need him to give you an assignment,” Nat explained. “Need to record him giving orders to hurt some business folks.”

“How often do they pull operations?”

“Often. From the info on the server, I’d say about once a month.” The words were tight and short coming out of Nat’s mouth.

“Okay,“ Bucky ran both hands through his hair, leaving them locked around the back of his neck. “This is just another mission. Like Budapest.”

“Except in Budapest, you didn’t want to fuck the hot client, ” Clint scoffed, annoyed.

“Barton, watch your mouth,” Natasha ordered before turning back to Bucky. “You’re head’s in the game, right Barnes?”

“I’ll let the Winter Soldier out and do my job,” Bucky drained his beer, turning to look Clint dead in the eye. “I don’t always remember what I do when I let him come to the surface, but I know I’ll do my fucking job.” His eyes narrowed. “And if you ever say any like that about Ms. Lewis again, I’ll murder you and make it look like an accident.”

Clint grinned back, sipped his drink. He looked smug for eliciting such a strong reaction from the stone cold soldier.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“Rumlow gets back this afternoon,” Nat ignored Clint, moving on to logistics. “Where is Darcy now, Buck?”

“She’s with Steve,” Bucky tried to suppress a grin, thinking about the way Steve’s eyes had widened when Darcy announced that they’d be spending the afternoon shopping for new lingerie so she could screw her new boyfriend. “He’s taken her shopping.”

“Steve went shopping?” Clint looked incredulous.

“Darcy demanded it,” his grin was full blown now.

“Damn, I have got to meet this woman,” Clint mused. “The only two women I’ve seen him bow to are Pepper and Peggy.”

“Yeah?” Nat smirked. “Just wait till Darcy barks an order your direction. She’s a force.”

Bucky smiled to himself now.

“That she is.”

***

“I feel completely unqualified for this, Darcy,” Steve muttered, staring at his shoes while Darcy changed in the dressing room.

“Points to me then,” came her voice from inside. “I feel like you’re the sort of fella who goes through life a little over qualified.”

Steve smiled at that. Darcy was fun. When he’d walked into the penthouse to pick her up so that Bucky could go to his meeting, he hadn’t expected her to be so…much. She’d looked him up and down and whistled lowly.

“Damn, Buck,” she’d snarked to Bucky who was standing next to Steve. Her eyes were trained on Steve’s body. “Were they running a two for one deal on hot soldiers? The two of you together is completely unfair to womankind everywhere.”

“Fortunately, I’m off the market,” he’d quipped, holding up his hand to show of his wedding band. “Bucky however—“

“Oh I know,” she’d grinned back, glancing at Bucky. “But he’s not single either. He’s my boyfriend.”

She’d said it with casual confidence that left Steve slack-jawed. He turned to look at Bucky.

“What—How..When did this happen?” he tried to look sternly at Bucky—who didn’t look surprised at all—but Darcy answered.

“When he kissed the hell out of me yesterday. Turns out, your best friend is…skilled,” she laughed, blew Bucky a kiss, and turned to grab her purse from her bedroom, leaving Steve and Bucky alone for a minute.

“Wanna explain this to me?” Steve asked with a full grin, finally gaining his footing in the conversation.

Bucky just grinned back, shrugging his shoulders.

“Thought I’d take a leap and see where I ended up.”

“You musta done something right,” he turned, looking in the direction Darcy had exited. “She’s…”

“A lot?” Bucky supplied with a sheepish smile.

“Oh god,” Steve replied.

“What?”

Steve gulped.

“Can you imagine she and Peg in the same room together?”

Bucky stilled, processing this hypothetical for the first time.

“Shit. We’re dead men walking, Steve. They’re gonna run circles around our asses.”

Steve thought back to the way Bucky’s face lit up when Darcy snarked at him. He’d noticed how relaxed his best friend seemed around this firecracker of a woman. Darcy stilled something in Bucky—something that had needed tethering for a long time. Her confidence and social ease made Bucky exhale. He was thankful for the obvious effect she had on Bucky, but Steve couldn't help but wonder what exactly Darcy saw in Bucky.

He knew his best friend was a loyal man. Bucky had always been honest and faithful and passionate about justice, but after the war, he wasn’t exactly easy to be with. So far, Darcy had only been privy to all of Bucky’s best qualities: his comfort and kindness and protective streak. Steve wondered what Darcy would do when she saw the Winter Soldier in action, all bloody and vengeful and cold.

“What’s his favorite color, Steve?” she asked from inside the dressing room. “I wanna surprise him.”

“Navy,” he said without thinking. “But, Darcy, you know he’s not gonna be picky, right?” Steve had no idea how to have a conversation about bras and panties, but he did have some questions for Darcy. He figured now was as good a time as any.

“Darcy, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why Bucky?”

He heard the rustling in the dressing room still.

“What do you mean, Cap?” her voice sounded stilted and timid.

“I mean, you’ve only known Bucky for a few weeks,” he took a breath, trying to measure what he would say next. “And I know you’ve been through hell. You’re still going through hell. But Bucky’s been through pain too. He’s…well, he’s more fragile than he lets on. And it’s my job to take care of him. So I’m asking you, why do you want to be with him? Is it just because he’s currently trying to save you from an asshole?”

No sound came from the dressing room for three solid minutes. Then, with no warning whatsoever, the door swung open, and Darcy stepped forward, now fully clothed, hands on her hips, looking ready to do battle.

“Listen here, Rogers, because I’m only going to have this conversation with you once,” She tossed her hair and tilted her chin up, looking him square in the eye.

“I don’t just fuck around with people,” her voice was firm with an angry edge. “I don’t…I’m careful. And I know how that sounds, seeing how Brock turned out to be a sociopath, but I’m not a dumb woman. I know Bucky has issues. He came into this job with full suitcases of baggage.” She ran her hands through her hair.

“But guess what? I’ve got a matching set of emotional luggage to set next to his. I’ll tell you what I told him: I know what a bad man looks like, up close and personal. Bucky Barnes is a good man with an honest heart. He wants to have a life with me. He’s been thought a lot of darkness, and it hurt him, deep. He may never really get over it. But he’s fucking trying. And so am I.”

 _He told her about Russia_ , Steve realized.

“Truth be told,” she continued, “I don’t know when I’m gonna be brave enough to treat him right. I’m gonna try real hard,” her eyes stung and she felt moisture pooling in them. “I know he deserves…more. I really do know that, Steve, and I promise, I’m gonna learn.”

“Darcy I didn’t mean—“

“Yeah, you did,” she cut him off and exhaled. “And that’s okay. He’s your best friend. But I don’t have a best friend to vet him for me or to convince you that I’m worthy, so I guess you’ll just have to take my goddamn word for it.” There were actual tears falling down her cheeks now.

“No Darcy,” he raised his hands in surrender. “You…you make him happy.”

Her head snapped up to listen at Steve’s words.

“What?”

“He’s different around you. Lighter. Thoughtful. Less anxious. That’s what you do to him,” Steve took a step forward, but stopped when Darcy quickly took a step back.

Suddenly, Darcy’s vulnerability in this situation struck Steve. Brock Rumlow, the man she’d elected to date and trust, had spent years hurting her, making her fearful and untrusting. And now, not only was she completely exposed here in this store, taking alone with an imposing strange man, but she was also healing from surviving assault. And he was critical of the way she had been trying to open up to Bucky, a man she apparently thought she could see a future with.

And here Steve was making her explain herself to him.

_Christ. I’m an asshole._

“I’m on the side of both of you being happy, whatever that looks like,” he tried to amend.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, self conscience. “Me too.”

Steve tried to smile, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

“I’m also on your team, Darcy,” he tried to be sincere. “He’s my best friend, and now, you’re his best girl. That means when he’s not around, your safety is my responsibility.” He grinned, seeing her surprised face.“I probably should have lead with that, huh?”

“Eh,” she grinned back, taking his hand. “You’re Bucky’s best friend. Means you’re probably not the most tactful human in the world.”

Just then, the burner phone Bucky had given her that morning buzzed.

Bucky: Hey honey, I’m on my way to 5th Ave. Where can I meet you all?

“He’s ready to meet, where do you want to go?”

Steve thought for a minute.

“Let’s meet at the hotel. That way you all will have a little time together before Rumlow gets home.”

“Great, I’ll let him know.”

As she turned to look at her phone and text Bucky, Steve felt himself exhale. It wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe he could trust Bucky's well-being to Darcy.  
***

“You gonna show your ‘boyfriend’ what you got today?” Bucky teased as they rode the elevator back up to the penthouse.

“Oh,” instead of teasing back, Darcy looked flustered. “I, didn’t think that would be…I mean…maybe?”

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Darcy,” he turned, trying to convey how much he meant that to her with his eyes. “We’ll go at your pace.”

“No,” she started, and he noticed the blush creeping into her cheeks as they reached the penthouse. “It’s not that. I just…I want it to be good for you. I want—“

He couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of his lips. Her timid look turned annoyed.

“I’m sorry darlin’, I’m not laughing at you, I just can’t believe you’d think this,” he motioned to the space between the two of them as they walked into the kitchen. “Could be anythin’ less than fantastic.”

Feeling brave, he took the shopping bags out of her hands with his and set the on the floor. Placing a hand on either side of her hips on the counter, he stepped close, caging her in. He noticed how her breathing sped up. She tilted her head up and back, allowing him access to nuzzle her neck a little. She sighed, and Bucky pressed him body into hers in response.

“Honey,” he whispered lowly, nose grazing the skin underneath her ear. “I’ve been dreaming about the way you taste for days now, ever since you let me kiss you in the hallway.”

He ran his hand up her arm and back down to her side, resting on her hip. She fisted his t-shirt in her hand as he opened his mouth and ducked his head to suck at the skin just below her collarbone.

“God, Buck,” she moaned, arching her back, hips pressed flush against his, grinding herself into him. “You’re so good at that.”

He hummed in response, letting his hand venture from her hip up her shirt to caress the skin on her stomach. She shuttered as it inched higher.

“Baby, can I touch you?” he felt himself harden in his pants, thinking about all the ways he wanted to make her feel good. “I’ll stop anytime you say, baby, but I gotta touch you if you’ll let me.”

His fingers were now dancing under the swell of her breast, and he sucked in his breath realizing she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Yeah, Bucky please, I want…”her voice trailed off into a sigh as his hand came up to palm the weight of her breast. “Oh…god Bucky, that—“

She broke off with a sharp gasp. Bucky took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinched slightly, watching her blissed out face to gauge a reaction. He was delighted when she cried out again as he gently twisted a little.

“Fuck, Darcy, you’re so responsive,” she arched her back further, pushing her breast into his hand, practically begging for more. “That’s it, baby, just let me make you feel good. God, you look so good like this, Darcy.”

She cried out at his words, and he lifted his other hand to give some attention to her other breast. “That’s so good, Buck, please, I need…”

“Yeah?” he teased a little, lifting her shirt over her head, exposing her chest to him. He noticed the fading marks Rumlow left on her skin, and suddenly felt a renewed urgency to make her feel taken care of. He moved his hands underneath her ass to lift her up, sitting her on the kitchen counter and stepping into the space between her legs.

“This okay, Darce?” he asked, moving his mouth back to her neck.

“Fuck yes,” she moaned, reaching up to rake her fingers into his hair, holding him impossibly closer to her throat. Grinning, he moved lower to the top of her right breast, kissing it gently before closing his mouth over her pink nipple and sucking.

“Yeah,” she panted hands on his shoulders, “God yes, Buck.”

“James,” he corrected, pulling off her nipple with a pop. “That’s my real name.”

“James!” She moaned, and Bucky wrapped his lips around her nipple again, but this time, he let his teeth graze it and reached up to play with her left one as well. She gripped his body to hers with her legs,

“So good for me, baby,” he cooed, remembering how she’s melted for him a few days ago. “Love the way your body responds to me.”

“Fuck, James, I—“ he watched as her eyes rolled back at the words.

“Wanna take care of you, Darcy,” he lowered himself to his knees, kneeling with his face right against her clothed center. “Will you trust me, honey? Let me make you feel real good?”

She reached down to stroke his cheek, dazed, and grinned at him. “Please, James, make me come.”

He raised up on his knees and used both hands to help her shimmy out of her jeans before burying his face against her. She was still wearing red lacy panties, and he licked a stripe up the center of them, tasting her wetness. With a shriek at the sensation of his tongue on her, she tangled her hands in his hair.

“Gonna make you feel so good, princess,” he mumbled against her. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of her panties on her hips, but instead of pulling them down, he pulled up roughly, causing them to rub against her clit.

She cried out in pleasure, and he grinned against her, pulling the panties down her legs and discarding them on the floor. He pressed a kiss into the inside of her thigh.

“That’s it baby, god, look at you,” glancing up to see her head thrown back, he kissed her thigh again. “You look so sexy like this, Darcy. Wonder what you look like all opened up.”

“Please,” she moaned above him, thrusting her hips out, looking for friction. “Please baby…”

“Oh honey,” he used both hands to spread her knees wider before gliding a finger down her slick opening. “Look at this. You got all wet, honey. This for me? You like being taken care of?”

Instead of responding, Darcy tried to thrust herself into his fingers, but he stilled her by moving both hands to her hips.

“Needy little thing, huh baby? Like it when I touch you?” he grinned and moved his thumbs to open her up to him. He licked his tongue up her center, stopping to add a little extra pressure to her clit.

“Taste so good baby,” he rubbed his thumb back over her entrance, teasing. “Don’t hold back, Darcy. I wanna hear you while I lick your pussy.”

With that, he dove in, tongue finding her entrance and laving at it, thrusting in and out in a broken pattern that had Darcy whining and crying out. When he knew she was close, he pulled away and watched her.

She looked like a goddess, all blissed out, back arched, head thrown back in pleasure.

“Yes, god yes, don’t stop, yes please, I—“

“That’s it, Darcy, good girl. Come for me!”

Keeping his eyes on her face, Bucky wrapped his mouth around her clit and sucked hard while pushing two finger into her dripping heat. She came hard, drenching his fingers, his name a prayer on her lips.

He stroked her through it, waiting till she had stopped writhing to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand and stand to his full height again.

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled, watching her come down. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered praise in her ear till she calmed down.

“How you doing, Darce?” he asked.

“I feel incredible, Buck,” she leaned her full weight on him, resting her head on his shoulder while his hands carded through her hair. “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll return the favor. I just gotta wait till my legs get feeling back.”

He pulled back and kissed her forehead, then kissed her for real, letting her taste herself on his lips.

“No, baby,” he looked into her eyes. “This was about you. I wanted to make you feel good. You don’t owe me anything.” Her eyebrows drew together as he continued. “I wanted this to be about you. I don’t expect anything, Darcy. We’ll get there.”

“Oh yeah?” she pulled reached a hand up to touch his cheek. “So this is going slow?”

He turned bright red the, suddenly bashful and very aware of how naked she was.

“Well…slow may not be the best word anymore,” he gulped. “How about careful?”

“Careful is good,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Careful is fucking incredible, turns out.”

“Well next time—“ he was cut off by his phone ringing.

“It’s Nat,” he explained before answering. “What’s up?”

“Rumlow’s car just entered the lot outside,” she replied. “He’s here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeep! Writing this was all the things. I've never written a smut scene before, so I hope it read well. The point was to show how much trust Darcy is finally placing in Bucky. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	13. Facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow and Bucky discuss a new oppertunity.

Darcy's heart dropped.

“I have to get ready,” Darcy mumbled, realizing how naked and exposed she was, sitting there on the counter in the kitchen. Looking at Bucky, still fully dressed, she suddenly felt embarrassed as the heady waves of arousal left her system only to be replaced by rising panic. She looked down, unable to look at Bucky.

She scrambled off the counter, ungracefully grabbing her scattered clothing and making for the guest room.

“Woah, Darce,” Bucky stepped in front of her, hands raised like he was surrendering. “Honey, that was intense, I don’t want—“

“I know, I’ll be fine in a minute, I just have to put on something and fix my makeup,” she stepped around him and fled to the guest room, closing the door behind her.

***

Bucky was pissed.

He’d promised himself that the first time he and Darcy got that…personal, he’d do it right. He’d have time to care for her. He’d make sure she was comfortable, felt loved on, knew he was serious about this. Instead, he’d just ravaged her in the middle of the kitchen like a selfish idiot, knowing that they didn’t have time to really explore one another and talk about it afterwards.

And now, Rumlow was on his way up here, and Darcy was tying to pull herself together alone in her room. This is what he wanted to avoid. He wanted time to share life with her—to prove to her that she could trust him. He wondered how she was feeling now. She’d looked a little too fragile than he was comfortable with running back to her room so quickly. Sure, Rumlow was coming, and they needed to start playing their parts again, but Darcy…

“Fuck this,” he muttered, opening the door to the guest room.

“Darcy I want to—“

“D? Are you here?” Rumlow’s voice bellowed from the foyer.

Bucky made eye contact with Darcy who was now fully clothed. She looked less fragile, her mouth set with determination. He tried to convey his feelings with his eyes, and took a step backward, out of the room, and turned to meet Rumlow in the hallway. He wanted to give her as much time as possible to exhale before seeing Rumlow.

“Hey, bossman,” he plastered on a smile, meeting Rumlow in the kitchen.

“Barnes!” Rumlow greeted Bucky with a handshake, clasping his other hand on Bucky’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “How was Darcy while I was away? Give you any trouble?”

Bucky knew he had to put on a front. Darcy’s safety was dependent on Bucky creating a facade. Even so, he could taste bile in his throat as he responded.

“Oh you know Darcy,” he tried to laugh. “She’s always a handful. We got along just fine while you were away, sir.”

“I’m sure,” Rumlow responded, and Bucky wondered if he suspected anything.

“Hey darlin’,” Darcy entered the room with an easy smile on her face. She smiled, coming to stand in front of him and kiss Rumlow. Bucky’s stomach rolled.

“How was your trip?”

“Productive,” he poured himself a drink. “Thirsty, Barnes?”

“Uh, I’m still on the clock, sir,” Bucky smirked back.

“Yeah,” he smiled wider. “My clock. And we’ve got somethings to discuss.”

“Oh?” Bucky asked as Rumlow handed him a glass.

“Yeah, Pierce and I wanted to talk to you about some job opportunities where we could see you excel.”

Bucky noticed Darcy’s movement in the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. He was always aware of his surroundings, but this felt different. He was hyperaware of her, like a lighthouse on the shore.

“Would you be willing to come train with our STRIKE team?” Rum Rumlow continued.

“Well, sir, I do already have a job. I’m third in command in at a very large company. I’m not exactly looking for a job.”

“Ah yes,” Rumlow took a large sip of his drink. “I can’t imagine working for Stark and Rogers. Tell me, is Rogers as sanctimonious as he comes across?”

Bucky knew what was happening. Rumlow was trying to win him over by picking apart the problems with Shield—problems that were very real, but he inwardly laughed. If Rumlow thought attacking Bucky’s best friend was a good way to convince him to leave, he had another thing coming. Still, he knew he had to play the damn part.

“He’s always been that way,” he grinned. “Steve’s got an overactive sense of justice. It’s always getting him in trouble.”

“How well do your own…tactics fit into his idea of right and wrong?” Rumlow looked intense now, leaning forward a little.

Bucky hesitated.

“What exactly do you know about my tactics?”

Rumlow waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“There’s a reason I requested you, Barnes. The whole “Winter Soldier: Shoot First, Take No Prisoners” thing seems like a guarantee that the job will get done by whatever means necessary. It’s something I admire,” he tilted his head back. “So what does Rogers think?”

“Steve doesn’t always see my methods as necessary, even when they are. He gets to see things in black and white from his high horse. Everything is always right verses wrong, no grey area, because he’s not normally the one doing the dirty work.”

That was only partially true, but he wanted Rumlow to think he was winning the conversation.

“Ah,” Rumlow grinned. “It must be nice to have someone like you do the messy things while he gets to take all the credit. Seems a little unfair to me. I mean, you’re the one risking your own skin, right?”

“Yeah, most of the time.”

Darcy called from the kitchen, pretending not to hear the conversation.

“Brock, do you want to order out for dinner or should I make something?”

“D, can’t you see we’re talking?” he barked back at her.

“Sorry, I’ll just call for take out,” Bucky glanced at Darcy in time to see fear cross her face before she schooled it back passive. He shifted in his seat trying to to react.

“What about Stark?”

“What about him?”

“Look, I don’t know the guy personally, but I hear he’s an absolute dick,” he smirked. “It’s also common knowledge that the two of you aren’t exactly best friends.”

Bucky inhaled and tried to look pissed.

“Tony’s only concerned about himself. He doesn’t like me cause I refuse to kiss his ass like Steve does.”

“He does strike me as the kind of guy who needs everyone around him to bow down,” Rumlow looked amused.

“You have no idea,” Bucky muttered. That at least was true.

“So why do you work for them if they don’t appreciate you?” There it was, he thought. That was the question he knew Rumlow would get to eventually, and he was prepared.

“When I had nothing, I had Steve. He’s the only guy who ever really gave me a chance. And war—“he broke off, hoping to sound upset. “War made me into someone else. Steve may not like it, but he is also willing to give me a job.”

“And Stark?”

“I do my best to just stay out of that guy’s way. One day we had a meeting with some other executives, and I spent the time counting all of the ways I could kill someone using the folder in front of me. Stark doesn’t want to know about dirty work, he just wants it done. I think he may enjoy making me work for him a little too much sometimes.”

“It sounds to me,” Rumlow stood up, “Like no one really appreciates your skill.”

“Not everyone can afford to find a job where they’re ‘appreciated,’ sir,” he shot back, standing to face Rumlow.

“Which is why I’m offering you a chance,” he opened his briefcase and handed Bucky a folder labeled “Confidential.”

“Read this tonight. If you like what you see, what we’re offering, meet me in the security room in the hotel tomorrow morning.”

“But what about Darcy’s protection?”

“Get that hot redhead to watch her for a little while. It shouldn’t take too long. You’ll see, Barnes,” he smiled, and something about it unsettled Bucky to his core. “This is the kind of job that makes a man feel like a god.”

Bucky took the folder and shook Rumlow’s hand. He didn’t know what to expect, but so far, at least he'd been convincing. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on to your hats, folks! It's about to get bumpy! 
> 
> Sorry this chapter is a little shorter. The next one should make up for it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Standing on the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the calm before the storm! Bucky's undercover work begins. Nat plots their next steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeep! Here we go! Together ALONE in Brooklyn! And what's Brock up to? Why are they after Barnes?....the plot thickens!

Natasha was worried.

She and Darcy had been sitting on the couch shuffling through Netflix for and hour and a half, and Darcy hadn’t stopped talking. Nat watched as the woman worried her hands, eyes unfocused, jumping from topic to topic at random. Nat sighed, knowing she was going to have to have hard conversation.

“…but I never really liked watching the bach—“

“Darcy, we need to talk.”

For the first time since Nat entered the penthouse, Darcy stopped moving and made eye contact with her. She was wringing her hands together, clearly ridden with anxiety.

“Bucky is going to be fine,” Nat held her gaze a little longer to make sure Darcy would really hear her.

“I know that,” Darcy shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not concerned about that. I’ve seen the metal arm. I’ve got a pretty good idea what he can do with it.” Her lip quirked in a grin, but it’s sassiness didn’t reach her eyes.

“Then what’s the matter? He’s down in that secret basement thing putting on a show for Rumlow and his goons right now. Trust me,” Nat asserted. “He’s probably more at ease in a training situation than he is anywhere else.”

“Yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Social,” Darcy paused, shifting her eyes to stare at her nervous hands. “It’s just…Brock is very good at…brainwashing people to do what he wants.”

“Yes….?” Natasha waited for Darcy to explain.

“He’s really persuasive…and Bucky’s already told me that he’s going to play along…” She took a deep breath like she was afraid to admit something. “What if Brock convinces him to…see me the way he does?”

She looked utterly humiliated to have said those words out loud.

“You mean, you think somehow Barnes will change his mind about you? Honey,” Nat scooted forward, taking Darcy’s hands in her own. “I’ve known Barnes for years. He’s the most steadfast person I’ve ever met.”

She paused and tried to measure her next words.

“You think you know what he’s like when it comes to battle and…violence, but there is a reason they call him the Winter Soldier. He’s spent his life steeped in brutality and blood. He’s powerful. And he has more resolve to do the right thing than any man I’ve ever known, and that was before he met you.”

Darcy looked up, startled.

“What do you mean, ‘before me’?”

“Oh Darcy,” Nat smiled. “You have no idea, do you? Barnes is crazy about you. I’ve never seen him so singularly focused on one person.”

“Yeah, but that’s because it’s his job,” Nat could see a glimmer of hope warring with shame and pain in Darcy’s eyes as she spoke. “He’s not…he doesn’t necessarily want me. I’m still the job for him. ”

Nat narrowed her eyes. Something was wrong. Something had shaken Darcy’s opinion of Barnes. She seemed timid and unsure in his feelings for her, and Nat needed to fix it. If Darcy didn’t trust Bucky, then this mission to infiltrate Rumlow’s company was never going to work.

Also, against her better judgment, Nat liked Darcy. She liked the way Darcy stood up for herself, never taking shit from anyone. More than that, Nat wanted good things for Bucky. This ballsy, passionate, compelling woman in front of her was a good thing. Nat wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Bucky this interested in anyone before. Darcy’s very presence seemed to put him at ease and let him exhale.

“Darcy,” Nat started. “Did something happen with Bucky?”

Darcy’s eyes widened in panic.

“What? No! Why would you think—“

“Because you seem upset. And nervous. What happened?”

“We…kissed.”

“Oh yeah?” Nat couldn’t help but grin. This was not the direction she thought the conversation was going to go. “Was it bad or something?”

“No!” Darcy looked surprised. “Oh, ha, no, that’s definitely not the problem. Bucky’s…everything. He’s like a tidal wave. Being with him is all-consuming. I didn’t know being with someone could make a person feel so…much.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I…I freak out about being…intimate sometimes,” Darcy was burning a hole into the couch cushion with her stare. “Brock—he always leaves afterwards, after we fuck, and I get that, but I just thought with Bucky, I don't know, he’d be more—“

“Wait,” Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me that you two had sex and he left?!”

“Not exactly,” Darcy glanced up hearing the anger in Nat’s voice. “We got a little naked in the kitchen right before Brock got home yesterday.”

“A little naked?”

“Yeah,” Darcy affirmed. She didn’t elaborate, but Nat had a very vivid imagination. Darcy cleared her throat before continuing. “And we both knew that Brock was going to come home, but we got a little carried away anyway. Then you called and Brock was here and…” She trailed off.

“…and you ended up alone,” Nat finished for her. The look of shame and embarrassment on Darcy’s face was all Nat needed to see to understand. Darcy was afraid Bucky was going to treat her the way Brock always had. She had apparently trusted Rumlow at some point in time, and he ended up beating the shit out of her on a regular basis. She and Bucky hadn’t even been on a date yet, and apparently Barnes couldn’t keep it in his pants long enough to make Darcy comfortable. Nat was going to skin him alive.

“Darcy,” Nat tried. “Look at me.”

There were tears in the brunette’s eyes as they met Nat’s.

“I’m really sorry that you keep getting abandoned. That’s not your fault, and no one deserves to feel that way,” tears started rolling down Darcy’s face as Nat continued speaking. “But here is what I know for sure: James Buchanan Barnes is trustworthy. He never does anything halfway. And he very clearly cares for you. It sounds like he needs to make that a little clearer to you.”

Darcy was full on crying now.

“I want to trust him, Natasha. I really do. I just want to be sure,” she sniffled a little trying to pull herself together.

“Then maybe tell him that,” Nat smiled. “Let him in. He’ll want to know that.”

Darcy nodded, and Nat felt her heart swell with warmth.

This woman had no idea, but she was singlehandedly melting the Winter Soldier’s icy exterior. With any luck, maybe that Soldier could love Darcy back to life.   
***

“I see why they call him Winter Soldier,” Rumlow mumbled to Pierce. Bucky was training their men. His six foot frame of solid muscle towered over many of their operatives, but it was his presence that commanded respect.

“They respond to him,” Pierce observed, watching as Barnes spared with a new operative. “They’re all acting a little afraid.”

Rumlow had to admit that was true. When they’d walked down the steps, through the corridor, and into the training facility, his men had stared, wide-eyed, and Brock could understand why.   
Barnes looked terrifying. His back was ramrod straight. He’d worn black combat pants and boots with a grey tank top that showed off the frightening metal arm by his side. His expression was completely cold betraying zero emotion except slight scorn.

Brock had asked him to run the recruits through high intensity hand to hand combat training. So far, Barnes had leveled eight members without taking a hit himself. Some of the recruits had been eager to prove themselves against him, but now, after seeing him systematically dismantle the other trainees, they seemed hesitant.

“Tell Barnes we want to talk to him,” Rumlow ordered before turning to walk back upstairs to the control room alone.

***  
“We could use a man like you, Barnes,” Pierce continued. “You scare the fuck out of our men. We need some of that.”

Bucky looked at the two men in front of him. They looked pleased. He knew he’d been impressive in training, and he’d illicited the response he’d wanted from the members of their team. He knew now they would offer him a possession, and he’d have to take it in order to get the info the police were after to make arrests.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he would do to them after this was all over. When he closed his eyes at night, he pictured the bruises on Darcy’s back, and he let the rage build deep in his chest.

“I have to admit, sir,” he said. “It felt nice to be respected by so many people. That’s not always a part of my day at SHIELD.”

“Here you’ll be head of our STRIKE team. You’ll have access to any command opportunity you want. You’ll call the shots instead of taking orders,” Rumlow seemed excited as he spoke. “But sometimes our team has to do some…dirty work. I know I could count on you to do whatever it takes to get the job done. You’d be my most trusted asset.”

“How long do I have to think about it?”

“Let’s say I’d like an answer in forty eight hours.”

“Alright,” Bucky stood, stretching to his full height. “You’ll have my answer then.”

He turned to leave, smiling to himself about his success. These men were easy to play.

“Oh, and Barnes?” Rumlow’s voice came from behind him. He turned.

“Sir?”

“If you say yes, you get access to certain…benefits,” his smile turned sinister. “You know, the kind that live in the Penthouse with pretty blue eyes and full lips?”

Bucky tried not to look too stunned.

“Um, what, Sir?”

Pierce spoke this time.

“It’s one of the best perks of the job, Barnes, trust me.”

Bucky swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat at the sickening implication.

_I have to do this. I have to play this part. I can’t kill them right now._

He took a breath before pasting on a smile and nodding at the men.

“That’ll give me more to think about,” he managed before leaving to take a shower. He couldn’t wait to wash the stench of this place off his skin and take Darcy out for the day. He needed to be away from here as quickly as possible.

***

“Darcy?” She heard Bucky’s voice from the elevator door. “Nat? You guys here?”

“In here!” Natasha answered. “I was just fabricating some paperwork from a client in Denver.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. Darcy took in his appearance. He looked tired, but relaxed. He must have just showered because his hair was still damp, hanging loosely around his face. He’d worn a dark red henley shirt and dark washed jeans with his boots. He looked unfairly attractive.

“Hey love,” he came closer to her, coming to pull her into a hug that she returned gently.

“Hey Bucky. How was training?”

“It’s over now and I don’t have to think about it, so fine,” his smile seemed forced. Darcy noticed how tightly he was holding himself, and she couldn’t help but to reach her hand up to cup his face in response. He needed to exhale. She wanted to help.

“But thank you for asking,” he turned his face into her palm and kissed it. She saw his shoulders physically lower in exhale. His eyes met hers and sparkled back. She loved having his effect on him. Whatever else was true about their relationship, she knew this part was real. Bucky had let her inside that icy exterior enough to relax.

“Now,” he turned his attention back to Nat. “What’s this about a client?”

“It’s your cover,” Nat replied turning the screen of her computer to face the two of them. “We’re going to “send” you to Denver for work. Should give Barnes enough time to “make up his mind” about what he wants to do with Rumlow without having to talk to the bastard.”

“Are we actually going to Denver?” Darcy asked, confused.

“Oh no,” Nat smiled wider. “I thought I’d send you somewhere that would make Barnes incredibly comfortable. Somewhere where you two could exhale before this whole thing gets…more intense.” Her eyes shot to Bucky’s, and his eyebrows shot up in understanding.

“What?” Darcy looked between the two of them, trying to see what she missed. “Where are we going?”

Bucky looked at her with soft eyes and smiled wide.

“Brooklyn.”


	15. Brooklyn Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha knocks some sense into Bucky.
> 
> Darcy and Bucky make there way to Brooklyn. 
> 
> Rumlow's plan intensifies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for being so patient! I hope you like this chapter!

Bucky never thought he’d get this chance.

He was rocking on his feet, bouncing on his toes, anxiously waiting for Darcy to get packed. When he’d realized that Nat had set them up for some alone time in Brooklyn, he could have kissed her.

Brooklyn was Bucky’s home. It was where he grew up. His whole family was deeply rooted in Brooklyn’s fabric. He’d learned everything he knew about food, music, and culture in Brooklyn.

Brooklyn also taught him family. It’s where he and Steve and lived together as roommates between deployment after Bucky’s family was lost in a fire. Steve had taught him how to have family again, slowly, painfully wading through loss and anger and brokenness next to Bucky.

Even now, he kept a small apartment in Carroll Gardens. It was the only place he’d ever kept for himself. He’d designed it with Steve, adding every security measure he could think of to the studio. The place was impossible to find and significantly harder to infiltrate. He’d made sure. Steve had made sure too, claiming that Bucky needed a space to learn how to exhale. It made him feel safest.

And he was going to take Darcy there.

“Barnes,” Nat’s voice broke his train of thought. “Before you whisk your little girlfriend away to the Fortress of Solitude, we have to have a little chat, and it’s gonna be uncomfortable, so buckle in.”

Bucky gulped, taking in Nat’s appearance. She stood with her body squared to his with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed with intensity. He took a measured breath.

“What’d I do, Romanov?”

She fought a grin, breaking the intense stance a little.

“You scared your girl. And as it turns out, I really like her,” she stepped forward towards him, coming to stand next to him, turning to plop her elbows onto the kitchen island. “And she doesn’t have anyone to give you a, ‘Don’t hurt my friend speech,’ so you’re just gonna have to hear it from me.”

His eyes bulged. He turned quickly to look at Nat, who was still staring forward.

“Hurt her? Nat, what the hell did I do?”

“You left her,” she said simply.

“I’m sorry, what? I’d never leave her to handle Ruml—“

“No, asshole, you left her after you all got…a little naked.”

His mouth fell open as he stared at his friend.

“”A little naked?’”

Nat inhaled. “Her words, not mine.”

Bucky huffed out a chuckle at that, before sobering to fix Nat with solemn face. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay,” finally Nat turned to face him. “She’s always fucking ‘okay.’ Darcy has to live in a world where she’s been forced to take care of herself. She never would have brought it up in the first place if I hadn’t pressed her.” Nat put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, trying desperately to get him to understand. “Brock fucks her, beats hear, and leaves. That’s her current understanding of sex.”

Bucky’s hands clenched and his face flushed in anger. Thinking too long about the reality of Darcy’s sex life was not something that helped with his blood pressure. Or his rage.

“I know that Nat.”

“Then you know,” she gave his shoulder a little shake. “If you…get a little naked with her, you have to be there afterwards. The intimacy itself isn’t necessarily what scares her. She was scared that you’d start believing whatever lies Rumlow tells his other goons about her. She thought maybe there would be a chance that you’d finish this job and leave for good. Or worse, you’d decide you liked whatever Rumlow is selling.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. That was the last thing he wanted her to feel. He wanted her to be able to count on him, to feel secure that he’d have her back. But he’d messed up, and now she wasn’t standing on solid ground anymore.

“What?” He looked down, unable to meet Nat’s hard eyes. “I would never—I couldn’t ever….she’s…” He paused to collect his thoughts before turning a fiery gaze to Natasha. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “No shit. You’re absolutely infatuated with her. I know that. But I’ve also known you for years. I know you don't do shit like that. She doesn’t.”

Bucky nodded, realizing how true that was.

“I’m not gonna tell you not to get naked with her,” she finally smiled for real. “You’re both adults. What I am going to say, is be a man and make sure you love on her.”

“I will,” he spoke with ernest surety. “She can trust me, Nat.”

“Oh I know that, you asshole,” she smiled. “Now, what exactly does ‘a little naked’ mean?”

Bucky couldn’t help but burst out laughing. As he and Natasha waited for Darcy, all his mind began to race, formulating all of the ways he was going to love on Darcy.

***

“What do you mean Tony took the bags?” Darcy asked, following Bucky down the garage stairs. “I thought we were going to take one of his bullet proof cars or something to Brooklyn.”

As the rounded the corner of the stairwell, Bucky stopped in front of her and turned, looking sheepish all of the sudden.

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his hair with is metal arm. “I had him pick up the bags and take them ahead of us. Car too.”

“So what, soldier,” she quirked an eyebrow. “Are we hoofing it all the way to Brooklyn?”

“Not exactly,” he turned his body, revealing an aggressive looking black motorcycle. “I thought maybe you’d like a ride.”

Darcy’s heart did a summersault and landed upside down somewhere around her throat. All she could think about was wrapping herself like glue around his body, riding at a stupid dangerous speed, hair blowing in the wind, completely free. This was easily the sexiest thing Barnes could have asked her, and he looked like he had no idea what the prospect was doing to her insides.

“Hell yes,” she managed.

He broke into a gigantic smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “This is the best idea. Do you have a spare helmet?”

“‘Course, doll,” he handed it to her before throwing one strong leg over the side of the motorcycle. “Jump on.”

Trying to keep some of her composure, Darcy quickly mounted the back, gently placing her hands on Bucky’s back.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Barnes asked, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the smile in his voice.

“What makes you say that?”

“If you had, you’d know you’re gonna have to hold on a little tighter, love.” He reached behind his back, hands finding hers. Without missing a beat, he wrapped her hands around his body, brining her right hand up to his lips. He kissed it gently before holding it to his chest.

“Hold onto the leather, love. And wrap your legs around me a little tighter. When I move, you’ll move. It’s all fluid motion, and you’ll feel safer if you’re holding tight.”

“Safe?” Darcy grinned, scooting herself closer to his body. She felt goosebumps travel down her back as she settled against his weight between her legs. God, he was so solid and strong.

“I thought motorcycles were all about danger?”

“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’d ever knowingly put you in danger, doll.”

She caught her breath, not sure what to say to that. She could feel the blush on her cheeks and was thankful for the helmet.

“Now, hold on tight.”

***

If he had to pick, this moment, driving across the Brooklyn Bridge with Darcy Lewis holding onto him tight, was the best moment of Bucky Barnes’ life.

He could feel her breathing behind him, and she sounded completely content. He though she was going to be afraid of riding together on his bike, but she hadn’t batted an eyes. She really was a pistol, completely fearless. She was willing to take chances, to try anything. It was becoming something that made his knees weak around her.

As they drove, Bucky dreamed. In his life, he’d never given himself permission to think past the present. He’d never planned for a future, not sense before going to war. He’d trained his mind to focus solely on the task at hand, partly because he was afraid of being caught off guard, but partly because he couldn’t imagine sharing his life with anyone. Ever. Who would want a broken solider to come home to?

But here he was, racing across his hometown, dreaming about what it would be like to make a life with Darcy. What a life that would be. If that happened, if he was ever lucky enough to convince this woman to build a life, he swore here and now, in this moment, that he’d never take her for granted. She’d always know how much he cared for her. She’d always feel loved.

He slowed the bike, parking in a deep, deserted area surrounded by old buildings. From the outside, the brick building in front of them looked like a broken down warehouse. The chipped paint identified it as a textile factory from the 1920s. Bucky dismounted and offered Darcy a hand.

“Where are we, Buck?” She looked at him quizzically.

“Home,” he said quietly before taking her hand and walking around to the side of the building. He let go of Darcy’s hand and placed his palm on the security device next to a very thick steel door. It scanned his hand and opened, revealing another door with a retinal scan.

“So this is what intense security looks like?” Darcy asked from behind him.

“Oh no,” he looked over his shoulder with a smile. “This is the security you can see. There’s lots more, doll. I just know better than to put it all at the front door.”

He led her forward, into the building and up five floors of stairs.

“I take it back,” Darcy laughed behind him. “At this moment, I’ve very thankful Stark took out luggage. I wouldn’t have made it up these steps.”

As he came to a light blue door at the top of the last set of stairs, Bucky used the touch pad again, then opened the door for Darcy.

“Doll, do you really think I’d have let you carry your own bags? What kind of man do you think I am?”

Instead of responding, Darcy slapped his ass and walked inside.

“Oh. Wow,” she breathed. “This place is….wow.”

Bucky turned, trying to look at it from her perspective. The place was basically a gigantic studio. The whole thing was lined with exposed brick. The floors were all original hardwood, adorned with neutral rugs in every living area. A huge wood-burning fireplace was situated in the very center, brick towering all the way to the ceiling. Around the fireplace was a very comfortable looking living room set up—a dark grey rug, gigantic blue sued couch, two deep leather chairs, coffee table, and a tv over the hearth. A wall of square windows that overlooked the Hudson.

There was an entrance to another room in the far corner next to the window, leading to a bathroom. Darcy ducked into the doorway and squealed at delight seeing the porcelain claw foot bathtub in front of the windows.

There was also a spacious kitchen in the corner of the apartment diagonal from the bathroom with black countertops and light blue cabinets, complete with an island and bar stools. The other corner was Bucky’s bedroom. There was a dark grey duvet with a cream blanket thrown over the base of his king sized bed.

“So, will this do?” Bucky smiled, watching Darcy turn circles, trying to take the whole place in.

“It’s beautiful,” she gushed. “And there’s so much life. Who knew the Winter Soldier liked his potted plants…and his art.” her gaze went to the walls, staring at the charcoal and watercolor pieces with interest. There were also four or five framed photos of Bucky’s family and Steve. He also loved greenery. He’d filled much of the space with potted plants.

“The art is a newer hobby,” he replied. “Steve’s always been an artist. Punk dragged me to enough art shows that I finally caught the bug.”

“They’re incredible,” she turned to face him. “This place feels like you. There’s so much life.”

“Well yeah,” he turned to put an old Billy Holiday record on. “Aren’t homes supposed to feel lived in?”

“Not any that I’ve ever lived in,” Darcy spoke quietly, moving to the kitchen, putting on some water for tea in Bucky’s copper kettle.

He felt his heart clench at her words.

“Well, where ever you are next, it should feel like home.” He took the Earl Gray down from the tall shelf, coming to stand directly behind her.

She leaned her weight back against him, tipping her head back to make eye contact with him. “Well, thanks to Natasha, I can pretend for a few days.”

“No,” he leaned in and kissed her tilted forehead. “Not pretend. Practice.”

He was rewarded with a gigantic grin.

“I like that. Practice,” She turned and kissed him hard, hands buried in his leather jacket. With her mouth so open and warm and her lush body pressed against his, he wanted to take here right there, wanted to ravage her against the wall in his own home. The idea of having her laid bare in his own home awakened something primal in his gut. 

He opened his mouth, taking her tongue deep into his mouth and wound his hands into the hair at the base of her skull. She whimpered in response, and he felt himself grow hard. He rocked his hips forward, and she moaned deeply into his mouth, pulling back to scrape her teeth along his bottom lip before ducking her head and sucking gently on the spot where his neck met his collarbone. He tightened his grip in her hair and gasped in response.

But Natasha’s voice of caution whispered in his ear to 'go slow'. They had time. He could be a gentleman. He could teach her what it looked like to be loved.

He pulled her back up to his mouth for a brief kiss, then broke it with a sigh, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m gonna be so good to you, Darcy.”

Her eyes widened, startled at the sheer honestly in his eyes. She pulled back a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

“I know,” she said, but her voice was small and timid, so unlike the brazen women who’d jumped on the back of his motorcycle.

She turned back to the kitchen, and Bucky decided to let the moment go. He’d have time, he reminded himself.

“What are all these grocery bags?” She asked, and for the first time, Bucky noticed what she meant. There were at least fifty grocery bags sitting just inside the shelving next to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, Bucky saw that it was also completely stocked. He huffed out a chuckle under his breath.

“What?” Darcy asked eyes wide in wonder and amusement.

“You know how people have different nervous ticks?”

“Sure…”

“Like,” he paused, “How I have to check, double check, triple check the security measures. Count people. Look for patterns. Get the lay of the land to feel comfortable?”

“Yeah?” Darcy tilted her head, still confused.

“Well Steve has to make sure I’m taken care of to feel safe,” he grinned. “He knew we were gonna be here for a couple of days, so he brought groceries so he knew I’d eat something.”

“You’re kidding?” Now Darcy laughed too. “That’s hilarious. Is he always such a mother hen?”

“Oh Darce,” Bucky’s eyes lit up as he replied. “You have no idea.”

***

“He’s with Darcy in Denver?” Pierce asked Rumlow. They sat across the table in the hotel bar from one another.

“Yeah, we have a client there that needs a little convincing to sign the new contract,” his lip turned upward in a smug sneer. “Darcy’s specialty.”

“I have to say, boss, I think Barnes is perfect for the government work we have coming up. He has every reason to hate the Secretary of State. Seeing that man die has to be high on Barnes’ fantasy list given the way the marines abandoned him in Russia.” Pierce took a sip of his whisky. “You know he has to want revenge.”

Rumlow’s sneer intensified.

“Why do you think I want him? The other men may have some reservations at first about taking down an American leader…but Barnes?” he paused, thinking through his next few words. “Our men now fear the Winter Soldier. But they also respect him. They’ll follow his lead because they’re afraid and because he has their respect. We need him for this job.”

Pierce smiled, then waved down the waiter.

“So whats he got left?”

“Forty hours,” he stood, buttoning his jacket. “In the mean time, let’s see if we can’t manage to piss off Tony Stark.”

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This chapter was fun to write. I love getting into Bucky's head and walking around.  
> Can't wait to post the next chapter! Look for it Monday or Tuesday of next week! It's going to be a little more...intense...in every sense, so buckle in!


	16. Revelations, Admissions, and a Little Worship *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow meets with Tony and Steve, asking for a little leeway.
> 
> Darcy finally tells Buck the depths of Brock's evil treatment. 
> 
> Darcy lets herself love Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEP! I hope you enjoy!

Tony was annoyed.

This meeting was not going well. He looked across the conference table at Brock, who was leering at him with a dark look on his face.

“You know my company is worth quite a bit, Stark, so I’m not sure what the problem is. We’ll pay you well for your services….” He swirled his coffee in it’s mug, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“That’s not the problem, Rumlow,” Tony sighed and sat forward. “I can’t afford not to know where my men are. If you do this—if you force Barnes to go off grid just because you want to go to some clandestine meeting—and something happens to him, you’ll be libel.”

Rumlow scoffed. “Really? It’s _Barnes’s_ safety your concerned about? Come on, Tony. The man is Mr. Black Ops. I have a feeling he can take care of himself without being tracked like dog.”

“Clearly you’ve never met Steve Rogers,” Tony mumbled, looking up to see the commanding blond man entering the office. “Speaking of…”

Steve walked into the room, and the tenor in the air went from strained to tense. Tony noticed the offensive stance Steve had chosen to take as he entered. Most of the time, Steve was a happy-go-lucky golden retriever of a human, but judging by his body language, he must have really hated Rumlow. His back was straight, pulling Steve’s body up to it’s impressive heighth. His jaw was set, his hands were clenched,and the look on his face was neutral, far from his normal inviting, jovial self. He took a seat next to Tony without offering to shake Rumlow’s hand, completely out of character. Tony smirked. He loved having backup.

“Rumlow,” Steve nodded towards the man before turning his attention to Tony. “So, what’s this I hear about Hydra wanting to risk Bucky’s life needlessly and take him off grid for a few days?”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Rumlow rolled his eyes. “We just need a little extra security going forward. We have a deal coming up that has to be kept quiet till it’s finalized…” he took a large sip of his drink and tried to hold eye contact with Steve, who looked less then amused. “I want to take Darcy with us, but I’m not comfortable doing that without Barnes there to watch her back.”

“Ah,” Steve sat forward, hands clasped in front of him, holding Rumlow’s gaze. Tony watched his friend’s body still, like every atom was concentrating on this conversation. Not for the first time, Tony envied Steve’s composure. “Let me see if I understand this. You’re not only willingly taking your girlfriend into an unsafe situation, but you’d like for me to allow you to take my second in command, not to mention my best friend, with you so that you don’t have to keep an eye on her. You won’t tell anyone where you’re going or who you’re doing business with. You just know you need some armed help.” He took a deep breath, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure this is the story you’d like to go with?”

“I think what my partner is trying to say,” Tony side-eyed Steve in warning. “Is that we are having trouble understanding why we need to put our man in a situation that’s an unnecessary risk. Bucky reports back to us every night. In detail. He does this so that we have more eyes on the case, making sure that your girlfriend is as protected as he can be. Barnes is a good soldier, sure, but he’s just one man. By not letting him communicate with his team, you’ll cut off some of his effectiveness.”

“—or you could just leave Darcy behind this time,” Tony glanced at Steve’s face, surprised at the intensity he saw in Steve’s eyes. “That way, neither one of them are in harm’s way.”

Rumlow was trying to keep eye contact with Captain Rogers, but finally bowed to the intensity of his stare, and dropped his eyes to the table, then to Tony.

“Look, I hired SHIELD because everyone else told me you’d go the extra mile to ensure safety. This is the extra mile,” he glared at Tony, growing impatient. “Are you willing to do your job or not?”

Just then, Rumlow’s phone rang.

“I have to take this. Should just be a minute,” he left the room answering his phone as he left.

“Look Steve, I know you’re not comfortable with letting your bestie out of your sight for more than an hour, but—“

“Let him go,” Steve interrupted.

“Come again?”

“Let him go,” Steve repeated. “Bucky is plenty capable of taking care of himself. Put a tracker on him, give the controls to Nat and let her monitor. I trust Bucky. He always does his job. He needs to be as far inside Hydra as possible in order to report back and out Rumlow. I don’t like it, but I trust him. Let him go.”

“Well I’ll be,” Tony smirked. “Looks like someone’s finally getting over his attachment issues.”

Steve started to reply, but Rumlow chose that moment to come back to the meeting.

“So, have we go a deal?” he looked expectantly at Tony, seeming to avoid Steve’s gaze.

“I think so, Rumlow,” Steve answered, seemingly determined to make the man face him. “But you should know, we will expect a full report as soon as possible.”

Tony didn't like the smile that spread across Rumlow’s face.

“You’ve got a deal.”

The three men shook hands, and Tony felt his heart rate skyrocket. He thought about Barnes, hoping they were making the right decision.

***

Darcy was nervous.

Being around Bucky all the time was one thing. Hell, she could even handle being watched by Bucky all the time. But this, having him so close, touching her and smiling at her and teasing her, this was making her more nervous than she cared to admit.

They were sitting on the couch, her back to the armrest, her feel folded over Bucky’s lap, watching Harry Potter. Sometime about an hour in, Bucky had absently taken her right foot in his hands and started managing the sole gently. She’d jumped at the touch at first, but quickly settled back, watching his face. He was staring at the tv intently, like he wasn’t even away of what he was doing, ambivalent to the effect he had on her. His eyes were intense, but his posture was relaxed, completely enraptured by the story. Darcy had taken the time to appreciate how handsome he was—the way he bit down on his full bottom lip when he was concentrating, the deep blue of his eyes, the sharp curve of his cheek and jaw.

He hadn’t stopped massaging yet, and the movie was almost over. Darcy closed her eyes, exhaling. This was what it was supposed to feel like to trust someone to love you. You were supposed to be able to shut your eyes and drift off, comfortable with the other person, letting your guard down.

She smiled to herself and lost track of the time. She focused on the way his fingers felt on her foot, kneading it, rotating her foot, and she sighed again.

“That feel good, baby?” Her eyes snapped open to see the credits rolling and Bucky’s amused eyes looking down at her.

“Sorry, Buck. Guess I dozed off,” she tried to sit up, but he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“You’re fine, Darcy,” he glanced towards the kitchen. “Can I make you some tea? I’m in need of a caffeine fix.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” she smiled up at him as he stood and moved towards the kitchen. Within 5 minutes, he was back, rearranging the blanket back over her legs and pulling her closer, legs over his thighs even though she was sitting up.

“Thanks,” she smiled down into her cup, taking a big sip.

“Darcy, can I ask you something?”

His eyes were soft, looking concerned and timid.

“Of course, what’s wrong Buck?”

“Nothing’s wrong exactly,” he shifted his gaze down to his mug. “I just want to see how you’re doing. There’s been a lot of change the last few days. You’ve been going through quite a bit. I just want to know how you are,” he paused here, debating with himself before speaking again. “You don’t trust people, and I know that, but I…I really like you. And I want to know what’s going through your head.”

She tilted her head, staring back at him like he’d lost his mind. He wanted to know how she was doing? How could she even answer that question?

“I’m—I mean, I’m better,” she smiled a little, watching his hands clench his coffee cup. “Really. Part of me feels safer than I ever have. You’re safe. You make me safe.” She glanced up to meet his eyes and found him smiling.

“But I’m worried, “ She shifted, pulling her feet off his lap and crossing them in front of her. “I told Steve this the other day, but I want to be so good to you, Bucky. You deserve it. I want to give you a normal, comfortable, happy life. But I’ve never done that before, and I’m terrified of fucking it up.”

Instead of offering pity, he surprised her, asking her a question.

“When you say you’ve ‘never’ done that, what do you mean?”

She knew what he was asking. Bucky hadn’t pried about her background, but she knew he was curious, just like she had been with him. He’d told her all about his arm, and she’d been too afraid to tell him that she didn’t have a family. She sighed. Now or never.

“Well, I was put into foster care when I was seven,” she turned her gaze to the window, willing herself to continue. “And I’m not—I’ve never been particularly easy to be around,” she smirked a little remembering how much trouble she’d caused the first placement she’d been in. She’d punched one of the older boys staying in the house for making his little sister cry. “So I got tossed around to different houses. Had a couple…truly bad experience, but mostly just faced a lot of apathy.”

She glanced back at him, and felt her heart swell at the look on his face. He was just listening. Intently, with concentration, but without judgement or pity. He didn’t want to fix her, he just wanted to know her. She took a deep breath and continued.

“I worked really hard to get through college. Then I met Brock….the rest…well…you know the rest.”

He reached out and took her chin in his hands, waning her full attention.

“But I don’t. I don’t know the rest of the story. Not really. I have some educated guesses of what living with Rumlow is like. But…I don’t mean to push, Darce, but I want to know. What about Pierce? The rest of the men? The way Pierce spoke to you in the security room…why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”

She closed her eyes tightly. This was it. This was the place where her shame intensified.

“When the men have…preformed well, Brock gives me to them for the night.”

She felt the shame crawl up her body, over her, clawing its way up her throat and into her mouth. She felt her cheeks redden, utterly humiliated. She kept her eyes closed.

“I’m a reward for doing what you’re told. He doesn’t do it often anymore. Probably three times in the last year. But at first…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish. Her mind jumped around, landing on images of nights with different men, the pain of being with them. Some of them had been nice about it. Some of them had been monsters. And everything in between. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it wasn’t about the men, she knew. Brock did this to assert power, to keep her in her place, to continue to make her feel alone and powerless. She started as a warm thumb wiped the tear tracks from underneath her eye.

“Darce?”

Before she could help it, her mind flashed to the moment outside her elevator after meeting with Mark for the article. She remembered Bucky’s voice, asking her if she liked manipulating the men, accusing her of liking the attention from men like Mark. Surely this was it, the nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Bucky hadn’t gotten up. He was still here. Holding her face in his hands, waiting. Maybe he wasn’t disgusted. Maybe he would understand. She tried to compose her face, trying to prepare herself for whatever look he was giving her, and opened her eyes.

“Hey, honey,” his smile was warm, his eyes were kind. She felt something break in her chest at his gentle touch.

“I’m not going anywhere. I am so sorry that happened to you. It’s not going to happen again,” she saw his eyes change a little around the edges, like he was fighting back some deeply rooted rage or anger, but he blinked and it was gone.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I know talking isn’t exactly my best skill, and I’ve hurt your feelings and made you feel ashamed before, but baby, I promise, nothing anyone could say about you would change my mind.” He reached down taking both of her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressed a kiss gently to her knuckles, keeping his eyes on hers. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

She threw her arms around him, relief washing over her. He gripped her to his chest fiercely, murmuring in her ears how proud of her he was, mumbling sweet words of comfort.

“That’s it, doll,” he ran his metal hand through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. “I’ve got you. We’ll figure it all out. I promise.”

She wanted to die like this, wrapped up in Bucky, listening to him tell her all those pretty things in her ear. He wasn’t the first man to make promises to her, far from it. But for the first time, she trusted that he might mean what he was saying.

***

Bucky hammered out the chicken with a little more force than necessary.

Darcy had gone to take a warm bath after their intense conversation, and he needed to do something with his hands, so he started making dinner. He hit the chicken hard with the mallet, flatting it to sear.

He had hated the shamed look on Darcy’s face as she admitted the depths of Rumlow’s cruelty to him. He couldn’t imagine it…what kind of man did this to a woman? Not only that, but what kind of men went along with it? He didn’t want to think about it.

He hit the chicken hard again, then put the mallet down and gripped the counter, desperately trying to get ahold of the rage racing through his veins. He wanted to rip their spines out through their mouths. He bowed his head and exhaled. There would be time. Nat had promised him time to exact whatever revenge he wanted. He willed his body to relax, and pulled out his phone, texting Nat to let her know the…developments Darcy had shared with him.

When he put his phone away, he mentally put the conversion with Darcy in a box in his mind and put a lid on it. He didn’t want to ruin thinly time alone they’d have for a while by being a greedy bloodthirsty monster.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand, he could do this. He could make Darcy feel loved on, even just for the night.

***

Darcy stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She’d packed a very sexy nightgown and had just slid it over her head. The satin felt cool and refreshing on her skin, still warm from the bath. She took the bun out of her hair, letting her dark curls free down her back. She reapplied some eyeliner and a red lip, smiling at her handiwork. She looked hot. And she knew it.

She took Bucky’s fuzzy grey robe down from the bathroom hook and wrapped it around herself, concealing her body, catching a whiff of Bucky’s earthy, spicy sent on the fabric. She thought about the man in the kitchen.

A conversation like that should have terrified Darcy to the core, but it didn’t. Instead, she felt her heart was welling up with intense gratitude for Bucky. She wanted to share it with him, wanted to love on him well, wanted to help him understand how confident and comfortable and alive he made her feel. He’d been through hell himself. And he’d lived such a lonely existence. She wanted to be there one he could trust. She wanted to care for him too. Taking a deep breath, she exited the bathroom.

Coming back into the main studio room, she watched Bucky sauté some onions and butter for a sauce. He looked…beautiful. She knew that was the wrong word, but she couldn’t help it. He was striking, standing there in nothing but a white shirt and an old pair of jeans, looking sexy as hell. She could see the muscles of his back underneath the white shirt, flexing and contracting as he stirred. He was so big. So solid. She felt desire pool in her stomach.

“Hey soldier, need a hand?”

“You sure you wanna do that, doll? Last time I let you near the stove, you nearly burned dinner,” He snarked back without turning around.

“Hey!” she responded, coming to stand next to him at the stove. “I’m a fabulous cook, thank you very much!” To press the point further, she bumped him with her hip, taking the wooden spoon from his hand, and began stirring. Bucky’s warm laugher washed over her making her insides melt.

“Is that so?” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. She felt chill bumps shoot down her spine. Fuck.

“Yea, that’s so,” she grinned back before rising to her tiptoes and kissing him fully. The action earned her a strangled gasp of surprise from the man. She pulled back and grinned.

“What else can I help with?”

***

Bucky watched Darcy eat, transfixed.

Her mouth was just so pretty. He couldn’t help it.

She was telling him about the book she was reading, and he knew he should be paying better attention, but he was too distracted. His grey robe had opened a little in the front, and Darcy’s deep cleavage had pushed its way out of their confines. Her eyes were so bright and excited. He shook his head, putting down his cleaned plate, trying to refocus his attention on whatever Darcy was saying.

“Buck? You still with me?” He noticed her raised eyebrow and smirk.

“What? Oh, yeah doll. Absolutely.”

“Really now?” She smiled wider. “Because you look a little distracted.”

He mentally scrambled to find some verbal footing, snarking, “I don’t know what you could mean. I mean, I’d never get so distracted by you…assets that I’d lose the thread of the conversation. That’d be awful unkind, doll.”

She bit her lip, her eyes light and playful.

“Is that so, Sarge?” She put her own plate down on the coffee table and crossed her legs in front of her, body facing Bucky. She placed her arms out in front of her and straightened them, leaning forward, pushing her breasts against the fabric of the robe further. “Are you sure I couldn’t distract you? Even just a little bit?”

He groaned and reached for her, helping her move to straddle his lap. This was different. Darcy was taking control, and he was loving it. This side of her was sexy as hell.

“Uh huh, baby,” he mumbled, kissing his way up her neck, loving he way she arched, pushing herself closer to him. “You’re a fucking menace, distracting me like this.”

She moaned, holding his the back of his head, keeping his mouth at her throat before turning her mouth down towards his and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. He gripped her waist and pulled her towards himself hard, devouring her mouth with his own. He forced his tongue into her wet mouth and felt her suck on his tongue. Pulling back, her took her bottom lip in his mouth and bit down gently.

“God James,” he felt himself harden as she moaned his name. “Baby, you look so good, I want…” She trailed off, and pushed off of him, coming to stand before him. He almost moaned just looking at her. Her hair was disheveled, and her mouth was red and swollen from his insistent mouth. His robe was hanging off one of her shoulders. She looked ravaged, and all he wanted to do was touch her.

Slowly, she untied the robe and let it drop to the ground, revealing a short silver nightgown that fell above her knees. It was satin with a deep v, hugging the curves of her hips and breasts snuggly. He heard himself groan for real then.

“God, Darce—“ He started, but she stepped forward and put her finger to his lips.

“Can I take care of you, James? Will you let your girl worship you a little?”

“I…god, yeah baby, but are you sure you want—“ she cut him off again with a silencing kiss before grabbing the bottom of his white t shirt and pulling it over his shoulders. She licked her lips and got on her knees between his thighs, tongue running down the hard planes of his abs.

Bucky sucked in a breath and let his head tilt back, lost in the sensation. She opened her mouth and left kisses down his stomach, running her hands down his sides. He felt her hands come to rest on the top button of his jeans.

“This okay baby?” she asked, her voice rough. He blinked, looking down at her. She was so sexy, there between his legs, mouth all red, big blue eyes looking at him like she could eat him up.

“Yes Darcy, honey, please, I…” he trailed off, lifting his hips as she helped him out of both his jeans and his boxers briefs, bare in front of her. He watched as she licked her lips, staring at his hard cock, then looked up at him meeting his eyes. She licked her way up his length.

“God, James, you’re fucking huge,” she moaned a little, taking him as far down her throat as she could. He grunted, hands coming to rest in her hair.

“Darce. Baby. Your mouth..oh fuck Darce,” he couldn’t form sentences. She played and teased, taking him all the way down, then pulling out to kiss his tip and lick the head, teasing him over and over and over. He wasn’t sure how long she tortured him, but by thinned of it, he was dying, needing to cum so badly.

“Please, honey, please, I—“

“I got you, James. Wanna feel you cum for me, down my throat. Please baby?” And with that, she started sucking him in earnest, her mouth bobbing up and down his length, hands gently squeezing his heavy balls.

What could have been seconds or years later, Bucky couldn't tell, he came hard with a shout, hands gripping the back of Darcy’s hair hard. He felt her swallow him down, not stopping until she was sure he’d cum.

She sat back on her heels, smiling up at him.

“How was that, baby?”

He grabbed her by her hands and pulled her up to sit in his lap again. “Fuck Darcy. Gimme a minute, then I want to take you to bed. For real.” He held her close, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead. He felt her relax and rut against his thighs a little, enjoying the attention.

 _Oh yes_ , he thought, running his hands up her sides. _He was going to make her feel so good. And he was going to be there to hold her afterwards._

After a few minutes, he bent his head down and kissed her again, letting his flesh hand wander from her hip to her center, feeling how wet she’d gotten for him. She moaned into his mouth, and he too his hands away from her wetness. He gripped behind her knees and stood with her wrapped around him, still naked.

“Bucky!” She shrieked with a laugh. “What are you doing?”

He pulled back and gazed at her with dark amusement and intensity.

“Oh honey,” he smirked. “I’m not near done with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love them. I have so much fun writing soft Bucky. And he is SOFT for Darcy. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading! look for the next one early next week! (Monday or Tuesday)


	17. Perfection and Mechanics **

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It finally happens :)
> 
> ...but Pierce and Brock stumble upon some frightening information about Bucky they can use to their benefit.

Bucky held Darcy close, inhaling the scent of her hair as he walked her to his bed. He practically threw her down on it, trying hard to be gentle and hold himself back, but struggling in the wake of his own freshly stoked arousal. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring openly at the woman in front of him with unabashed adoration.

Darcy sat up on her knees, spreading them apart wide to support herself, looking back at Bucky with a grin.

“What are you looking at, Sarge?” she asked, her voice a little deeper and huskier than normal.

Bucky took a breath an leveled her with a stare.

“I’m looking at the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.” His eyes were so intense and ernest, Darcy felt her own arousal spike. He was standing there, completely naked, completely unashamed—all hard muscle and fierce stance. She didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her like this—like she was the most important thing in the room. Bucky’s eyes had turned dark. She gulped, feeling her cheeks flush and desire twist in her belly. She needed him in a way she wasn’t sure she entirely understood.

“You gonna do something about it, or are you just gonna stare at me all night?” she asked, still playful.

“Darcy,” he grinned. “Go ahead and slip that nightgown off, darlin’. I think I wanna watch you for a few minutes.” He felt himself blush saying the words out loud, but he kept his composure, wanting to watch her. He couldn’t blow this. Darcy needed to know that he saw her as whole. He saw her as a complete person that he didn’t need to save.

He also saw her as a fucking bombshell, and selfishly, he wanted the ability to watch her for as long as she’d let him. He had a feeling she got off on his dominance, and he wasn’t about to disappoint her now. “Come on, honey. Take it off and show me what you look like.

There was just enough command in Bucky’s voice to make Darcy’s knees weak. Slowly, keeping her eyes on his, she reached for the nightgown’s hem and pulled it over her head in one fluid motion. She flung the material to the side of the bed and brought her hands up to cup her heavy breasts, biting her bottom lip and grinning back at Bucky.

Bucky inhaled sharply. Darcy was a vision. She looked like every wet dream he’d had as a teenager—all hips and curve and breasts. Her hair cascaded over her right shoulder, and with her knees spread apart like that, he could see just enough of her center to make him want to see more.

“Good god, Darce…so fucking pretty,” he moaned out, his hand going to his erect cock, stroking it a few times. He noticed how her eyes followed his hands, watching him touch himself, and he smirked. “Touch yourself, babygirl. Show me what you like.”

Bucky’s confidence was staggering. Darcy blushed hard, but followed his orders, moving her right hand to graze her neck, then to travel down, grazing her stomach, and to rest on her clit, feeling how wet she’d gotten. She used her left hand to toy with her nipple, pulling a little more roughly than normal, liking the way the pain ground her in the moment. She toyed a little with her clit, and rolled her head back, her back arching in pleasure at the sensation of Bucky’s gaze on her body.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunt out, watching her move with wrapt attention. “Baby you look so sexy like that.”

“Buuucky,” she moaned, continuing to play with her clit.

Hearing his name on her lips was the final straw for Bucky. He quickly stepped forward and knelt on the bed directly in front of her, bringing his hands to trace her sides from under her arms to the curve of her hips. He watched her skin burst into goosebumps under his gentle attention.

“The things I want to do to you, doll,” he mumbled before leaning forward and attaching his mouth to her neck, placing an open kiss on the side of it before running his tongue up to her ear and whispering, “I’m gonna make you forget everyone else, baby. You’ll only remember my name.”

Darcy moaned and reached up to wind her hands in Bucky’s hair, pulling him in for a filthy kiss. The words he said… the way he made her feel…it was too much.

“James, please,” she heard the neediness in her own voice, but was too far gone to be embarrassed. “Please, touch me. Want you to touch me so bad.”

Bucky felt a rush of pride hearing her ask him so pretty.

“Well when you ask like that, doll…” he trailed off, taking her hips in both his hands and pressing her down so that she was on her back. He took both hands and spread her thighs, exposing her fully to him. “Baby, god you’re so wet. All for me, Darce? Want me to take care of you?”

Darcy bucked her hips up, trying to get him closer. “Uh huh, baby,” she replied. “All for you…please…I need—“

“I know, baby, I know,” he grinned and reached up to play with her nipple with one hand while adjusting and lining his cock up to her entrance with the other. “Gonna take good care of you, honey. You ready?”

Darcy let out a moan and nodded, officially past the point of being able to string words together. That was all the encouragement Bucky needed. He pushed forward, determined. Darcy’s back arched off the bed, shifting to accommodate his length. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so much—overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment and by how thick and long he felt inside her…and he was still moving forward.

“That’s it, honey, taking my cock so good, huh baby?” he fought hard to go slow, but continued pushing in at a steady pace. “Good girl, Darcy. So good for me,” he mumbled out.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Darcy noticed how natural and easy praising her came to him, like he had just been waiting to tell her how good she was. It made her shiver in pleasure.

Finally, Bucky bottomed out, holding still and letting Darcy adjust. He stared down at her, and seeing her underneath him, all vulnerable and sexy and perfect, he felt a sudden intense need to protect her in his chest. She was his. It was his job to keep her safe. It was his job to make her feel loved on.

“I got you, doll,” he murmured, pulling out and thrusting back in. She moaned low, moving her hips to meet his thrusts.

“God, James, yes! Please, you feel so good!”

He began moving in earnest then, watching the way Darcy’s face scrunched up in pleasure and loving being the one to put that look there. He began thrusting harder, gripping her leg in his hand and throwing it over his shoulder for a deeper angle. Darcy cried out.

“AH! Yes! That’s it—I…Oh James…I—“

He felt her clench around his cock. She was close. He grunted, pulling out roughly and manhandling Darcy to her hands and knees. He gripped her hips and lined himself up again.

“That’s it baby, Want you to cum for me, princess,” he grunt out, pounding into her from this new angle, his hands holding her hips so tightly, he was bound to leave bruises.

“Yes! James I—“ she moaned and came, his name a prayer on her lips. He kept moving, working her through her orgasm as he felt his approaching. After a few minutes he came as well, moaning her name and filling her up.

He collapsed next to her on the bed, wrung out. Darcy’s face was towards him, and he noticed tears in her eyes. His heart leapt to his throat, and he reached for her.

“Darcy?” he asked, pulling her body to rest on his, her head on his chest. “Sweetheart, are you alright? Was I too rough or—“

“It was perfect,” she cut him off, pressing a watery kiss to his chest. “You…I feel…I can’t tell you how perfect this is. There aren’t words.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her sweaty forehead. “You’re perfect, doll,” he insisted. “I’m not going anywhere. I got you. I…” He paused. Now or never. “I love you, doll. You don’t gotta say it back or nothing. But I promised myself I’d do this right. So I gotta be honest with you. I love you, Darcy. And I swear, I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

Darcy felt a tear leak out of her eye, but Bucky swept it away with his thumb.

“It’s perfect,” she said again, unprepared to deal with the thick emotions in her throat and heart. “I’m not going anywhere either, Buck. This is real. I…I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled, big and bright and unyielding.

“I’ll always want you, doll,” he pressed his lips to her forehead again. “Now close your eyes. Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Darcy hadn’t registered her exhaustion till that moment, but she felt it seeping into her bones now. She closed her eyes and began to drift, Bucky’s strong heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

***

“Has Barnes accepted yet?” Pierce asked, annoyed.

“He has,” Rumlow nodded back to his second in command. “He’ll be back by tomorrow night, then we’ll put his word to the test—see just how far we can push him.”

Pierce grinned. “I think he’s more willing than you might think, boss. I just read the classified report from the rescue mission Rogers ran in Russia. Turns out the Secretary didn’t even authorize Rogers to go…he was wiling to let Barnes die there, all alone and tortured past sanity.”

Rumlow cocked his head to the side. “So why didn’t Rogers get court marshaled for disobeying orders?”

“Seems Once he’d rescued Barnes, the Secretary took credit for the job. Wanted to make himself look like a tactical mastermind, so he used Barnes’s rescue as a feather in his cap.” Pierce handed Rumlow a file folder marked ‘Classified” on the front. “Skim through those pictures of Barnes when they rescued him. He was practically feral.”

“No,” Rumlow responded, thumbing through the images. “Not feral. Mechanical. They turned him into a machine. They took out all the human bits and stuffed something else inside.”

“What do you think it would take to unlock those inhuman parts?” Pierce asked with a cruel gleam in his eyes.

Rumlow grinned, his mind shifting to all of the ways Darcy had come in handy before now, and began thinking of all the new ways he could use her to break Barnes’s humanity back down.

“I’ve got an idea or two.”

He turned to a page in Barnes’s file, pausing when head read a particularly interesting passage about trigger words.

“Pierce, do we still have that Russian contact?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you all for your patience. I had a blast writing this chapter. Look for the next one his weekend! I really appreciate all the comments and kudos you guys leave! They keep me going!


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